The Smiling Face of Death

[Toon]

Somewhere around the age of 4 or 5. I was looking through a "National Geographic" and saw a human skull. It was a photograph and it horrified me. I slept on the floor of my parents' room for four nights in a row after that. Of course my older brother would tease me by clipping pictures of skulls or skeletons anywhere he could and hiding them around my room. I didn't know if caused such an extreme terror in me, but I think it was the teeth. The smile. The dead a smile that said "I have a secret" or "You're going to be just like me eventually". It was a grin that was barely holding back a laugh. 

I gradually toughened up a little (having a big brother will do that to you), and could at least see a skull without crying. The phobia stayed with me, though. Every time someone smiles at me and I see bare teeth, I visualize their skull beneath. I ended up making friends with unhappy, frowning kids as I grew up. A wide, bright smile repulsed me on a base level. I even became an accounting major because they seemed like safe, joyless students to be around. 

1996

I was working for an investment firm in a fairly large city. I was 24 and basically happy to be on my own. I had a group of pals who were all pretty glum except for Whit. Whit was a joker who I just couldn't rid of. He loved pranks and telling jokes and didn't even seem to mind that I wouldn't look him in the face. He was a new guy at the firm just like me and we just wound up as friends despite everything I tried to avoid it. He's the first person who ever asked me if I was gay.

"What? Why would you ask that?"

"Just a feeling I get around you. It's OK with me if you are. I know several gay people".

Not long after that conversation, I was scheduled to get a check-up for my insurance company. I was physically fine, but the doctor recommended I see somebody about my depression.

"Why?"

"From what I've seen, you exhibit many symptoms. You keep your eyes on the floor, will barely open your mouth when you speak and seem a bit detached from the world around you".

"I'm not depressed and I'm not going to see some therapist or psychologist or whatever".

He wrote something on a small card. "Either go see this lady or I'll make a notation on your file. I don't enjoy making threats, but what's going on with you is beyond just shyness".

I took the card and got up to leave.

"You have two weeks to make an appointment".

When I got back to my car I realized I had no idea what the man I'd just talked to even looked like. I knew he had brown hair, but that's about it. Maybe I did need some help. I imagine being endlessly withdrawn is as exhausting as being endlessly outgoing. I was tired. And lonely.

When I got to Dr. Kern's office, I made an effort to look at her. She was a small, older lady with long graying hair tied back in a braid. She smiled. I could do this. I had to.

"Gene?"

"Yes. Hello. I'm a little early".

"No problem. I've had two cancellations today and have been wishing I'd remembered to bring a paperback with me".

"What do I do? Sit? Lay down?"

"Whatever you want. Just be comfortable".

We talked. And talked and talked. Twice a week. We discussed everything -- even my childhood fear of skulls and my teasing brother. 

"Most little kids fear death because they don't, can't fully understand it. It's common. My daughter was traumatized by a stuffed owl at a museum. She knew it was dead, but yet somehow wasn't. Most of us go through this and get over it, but it seems as though you still haven't. You're still so afraid of death that you haven't lived".

That hit home.

We "processed" a lot of things over the next few months. She prescribed a pill I took every morning, and gradually I started to change. Smiles didn't bother me and looking at people's faces got easier and easier. Even my upbeat friend Whit didn't bother me anymore. He's the one who finally told me I needed to get laid. "Regular sex is a great mood stabilizer. Trust me on that one".

"Yeah, but I'm gay. You figured it out just before I did. It's not exactly a great time to be having gay sex".

"That's what condoms are for, Gene. I always wrap it up because I don't want to be a dad anytime soon".

He's the one who suggested I go to a gay bar, and even agreed to go with me the first time. I kept postponing that, but we eventually to a place called "Edges". It wasn't anything like I imagined it would be. It looked normal except for the lack of females. He invited his gay friend, Kirby to meet us there. We sat at a table and shared a big pitcher of beer. I actually felt casual and relaxed. Somehow I even managed to crack or joke or two. And smile. And laugh. When Whit to the bathroom, I asked Kirby what other bars he liked to go to.

He rattled off a few names of places.

"This neighborhood is full of them. Some get a little raunchy at night, but I've always enjoyed a little sleaze. What about you? You ever get sleazy?"

"Ah. No. I'm just now learning how to come out of my shell".

"Well, Welcome out! You'll be fine...cute young thing like you".

Condom. The word suddenly flashed in my brain.

After another hour, we called it a night. I told Dr. Kerns about the experience and she was happy, but warned me about bars. "People with histories and profiles like yours often have substance abuse issues, Gene. Limit your alcohol intake or you'll destroy the progress we've made".

I didn't listen of course. I kept finding myself at different gay bars, drinking. I went to one place near downtown called "Arc" that was a little too loud and a little too dark, but I saw Kirby there.  He was surprised to see me.

"Are you here alone?"

"Yeah. I'm all the way out of my shell now. I'm shell-free!"

"Do you know what this is? It's a cruise bar with back rooms. It's practically a bath house...except with no sauna".

"Oh. It's pretty popular, though".

"For a reason. I have to go pretty soon or I'd stick around and keep an eye on you. Does Whit know you're here?"

"No. And don't tell him, OK?"

"I won't...as long as you promise to stay up here by the bar and leave before 11. Deal?"

"Deal".

He gave me a hug and turned to leave. He stopped, dug in his pocket and put a tiny plastic packet in my hand. It was a condom.

A stool opened up at the bar and I sat down. I had a few beers and made small talk with  the guy next to me. Randy. He was as big as a linebacker, had a shaved head and small, trimmed beard. He kept buying me shots, but I sipped them slowly.

"Hasn't anybody ever taught you how to do a shot? You're supposed to just down it in one gulp".

So I did and he bought another. And another. And more beers.

"What time is it? Is there a clock around here somewhere?"

"Why? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight? You don't look orange yet and it's 12:15"

I laughed and told him about what Kirby had said about this place getting dangerous after 11 and how there were backrooms and stuff".

"He's just trying to scare you. Look around. Does this look dangerous to you? And there are some rooms back there, but it's mostly just guys talking or making out a little. It's not as loud in the rooms. Finish your beer and I'll give you a quick tour. You're safe with me at your side".

That I knew. I guessed him to be at least 6'6" when we stood up from the stools. I followed him to the rear of the bar. He had a small tattoo on the back of his left upper arm. It was a small symbol I'd seen somewhere before. After he opened the door he led me into a barely-lit hallway. There were doors on both sides and it all sorta reminded me of a college dorm at night. He tried the knobs on a few doors, but they were locked. He found an unlocked one and invited me in. 

I guess I expected chairs or couches or something like that. There was just a padded bench and a little table. The only light came from a red neon sign that said "pleasure" -- only the 'u' and 'r' were out and it just read "please". I had a bad feeling about this...especially when Randy locked the door.

"People come here to talk?"

"Yeah. Let's sit here and talk a minute, and then we'll go back out to the bar".

We sat next to each other. It felt awkward to say the least. He started touching my leg and then my hair. He wasn't talking.

"I noticed your tattoo? What is it?"

"Oh, that's a long story. I'll tell you later".

"It looks fa..." I couldn't finish the sentence because his lips covered mine and we were kissing. Deeply. His tongue has snaking all over the inside of my mouth. as alarmed as I was, I didn't want him to stop. My whole body responded to the kiss. I let myself touch his arms and back. I knew where this was going -- what with the locked door and all. Whit told me I needed to get laid and I guess now it was actually going to happen. I didn't even mind that he had pretty much tricked me into coming back here.

He abruptly stopped, stood up and started taking off his clothes. He was then standing there in the red light, completely naked. His penis was as huge as the rest of him and it was pointing straight out in my direction. "Don't just sit there, boy! Take your clothes off!"

I did because he demanded it and also because I wanted to. I looked at his hard dick the whole time I stripped and I guess he noticed because he started stroking it and showing it off. Once I was naked, he took the belt out the loops of his discarded jeans. He snapped it and struck my across the front of my neck. Goddamn it hurt!! It fucked up my throat because I couldn't even yell. Just gasping noises came out. "Now lay down!"

I lied on my back and suddenly remembered the condom in my pocket. If I'd been able to speak I could have asked him to get it out of my pocket. Too late now, I guess. He whipped me with the belt a few more times...on my stomach and legs. He then used the belt to tie my wrists together tightly. I was helpless at this point. He then sat his bare ass on my face. "Be a good boy and you'll be treated like one. Fuck up and I'll make you pay".

I was smothered with his big round butt and couldn't breathe. "Lick that hole, boy". 

No way. I was not going to put my tongue in someone else's anus. Who in the world do that? He got impatient and squatted down with more pressure. I needed oxygen badly. I had to lick it or I'd suffocate. So I stuck my tongue up there as far as I could. It wasn't as disgusting as I would have thought, but it definitely killed any arousal I had left. He sighed with pleasure and let up the pressure a little. I managed to get a little air and started coughing and choking like someone had held my head underwater. 

"Oh. Poor baby. Get as much air as you can now because you're going to need it in a second". I was heaving and gasping.

He then turned around, straddled my head and started pushing that ridiculous dick of his past my lips and tongue, aiming to plug up my already sore throat. "Dammit! Watch the teeth,boy. You just lost a few points".

I gagged and felt vomit gurgling up. Lack of air was once again becoming a problem. The head of that giant dick was lodged in my windpipe. Luckily, he decided to pull out a little and start humping my face up and down. I breathed through my nose when I could. "Good boy. Keep that up and you might get some extra credit".

We did this for another minute or two. It felt like my throat was ruined forever now.

He stood back up and moved around the bench to spread my legs wide apart. "Ready for the main event?"

I tried to talk. I tried to ask him to get the condom out of my jeans. I even motioned with my eyes at the floor.

"What?" He looked where I was looking.

"No. It's not time to put your clothes on yet".

I tried again to talk..."Condom". I managed to gasp.

"Are you kidding me, boy? That's how little you trust me? That's going to cost you!"

He spit on his hard dick and in a split second, had plunged halfway into me. I was going to die. It hurt so bad and all I could do was make a hissing sound with my mouth. I honestly thought my body would fall apart into two pieces. I guess the good thing is that it didn't hurt more as he moved in further. I had only tears and gasps. He didn't care because he was really into it. He pumped back and forth. That naked penis was going to put sperm inside me.

"Your dick isn't hard, boy. This isn't going to end until I see it hard".

I was so far from aroused. I could usually get an erection in seconds, but now I didn't think I'd have one again. It pissed him off. He wrapped those giant hands around my throat and started to squeeze. I'd be mute for life.

He was all the way inside of me as he bent down to kiss me. He kept pumping and talking dirty to help inspire my dick.

"Oh yeah. You're going to get my seed and then I'll own you forever. Yeah. I'm going to get you pregnant tonight. Your life is going to change in a few seconds".

He kept up the chatter and it started to work -- on some sick level. He tightened the grip on my neck. My vision blurred a little. I looked at his face. His bald head and wide smile were lit up from the red neon. A grinning skull. I was back to square one. Death was fucking me. The thought of that, the lack of oxygen and the deep pleasure I was feeling caused me not only get hard, but to cum instantly.

"Good boy. Here comes your A +".

He made mad, quick thrusts and then groaned loudly. It was done. He let his heavy body cover mine for half a minute before taking the belt from around my wrists. He got dressed and told me to do the same. It hurt to walk and move. He gave me a second to steady myself before we exited the little room.

Outside in the bar, people were chatting and drinking and laughing like the world hadn't changed. But it had. He went up to the bar and said a few words to the bartender. He came back with a pen and a card. 

"Write your number down. Your REAL phone number. If it's fake, I'll find you and kill you. Got it?"

I did as told. "Your neck will look better in a few days. Just try to keep out of sight until it does. I'll call you next week. I owe you a nice dinner".

I went home and stayed in bed for four days. They believed me when I called in sick to work because my voice was so wrecked.

Despite everything, I would catch myself smiling all the time now.

 

 

 

[Guest bwayman]

Excellent as always.  The title alone gave me a hard on.  

[Toon]

1 hour ago, bwayman said:

Excellent as always.  The title alone gave me a hard on.  

Thanks, man. You rock.