Bad Choices

A short story about bad choices and their consequences. Be warned the story includes themes of rape and violence.

Timothy was a small man- some might mistake him for a boy. He had just had another long day, and arriving at his apartment was refreshing. The door carefully swung shut behind him, but he never bothered to lock it. The building that Timmy lived in was private, and no one could get in without a password, so he didn't really see the point in it.

The moment that the door fell shut he let out a breath, and all the weight on his shoulders seemed to fall away. He clicked his answering machine, but instantly regretted it. The first message was markedly civil, but after a few moments they became more and more aggressive. Timothy's ex-boyfriend, Rob, didn't like how things had ended.

He was making everything from demands to threats, but Timothy was done with him. Rob was jealous and brooding- two traits that scared Timothy, and (at the behest of his mother) he had left him earlier that week. Timothy sat down on the bed and sobbed quietly with nothing but his former lover's voice filling the air. It had hurt him to do it; he wasn't in love, but it could have easily gone that way if Rob had been a little nicer- even if he weren't, Timothy found it hard not to love people.

The last message, time stamped a few hours prior, ended. “I'll get you Tim! Mark my words!” Timothy sat up straight. He pulled off his shirt and sent it to join the rest of the debris on the floor- then lay back down. As I said, he was a small boy- a little older than nineteen when it happened. His arms were tiny and his frame slight. As he stared up at the ceiling his tiny chest rose and fell, his too large heart beat and it beat.

He didn't bother getting undressed past that point. He hit his light and rolled over- cuddling the air in front of him.

After a few minutes he heard a sound. It was his door nob turning, but that couldn't be possible. No one else lived in here, and surely neither of Timothy's neighbors (an aging cat lover and an alcoholic pianist respectively) would bother to visit- at least not without knocking.

Timothy started again, a few moments later. His door creaked open- someone was inside his apartment! Or... no, maybe his door had been blown open. After a few seconds of agonizing over the decision he cracked open his bedroom door, and there- standing in the light- was the silhouette of a man. “Who are you!?”

The man chuckled. His blacked out face moved slightly as he walked forward, not saying a word.

“Don't come any closer!” The door slammed behind him, but still the man said nothing. Timothy shut his bedroom door and ran to the other side of the room, looking for anything he could use to defend himself.

The door knob jiggled, and then it flew open. Still, Timothy couldn't make out the intruder's features. Just the subtle moments of his head as he approached.

Timothy spun around, armed with a plastic bat, but it wasn't enough. The bat gently bounced off of his shoulder- doing nothing to slow him down. The man in shadow laughed again. “Authentic.” And then he grabbed Timothy, throwing him down on the bed. “I'm gonna f**k you, little man, and they're ain't nothing you can do about it.”

The faceless man pulled off his shirt and climbed on top of Timothy. He tried to struggle, but the attacker was six feet tall, and had arms as thick as tree trunks. He moved his face in to Timothy's neck and gently bit it.

Timothy wailed and tried to kick him, but it only seemed to be an encouragement. The man grabbed at Timothy's kicking legs and pulled his pants off- he forced them open and moved in.

Timothy had never felt this much pain, of course the sensation wasn't new to him, but he wasn't used to it hurting. Tears began to streak down his face as his struggles slowly gave way to gentle shivers. He had lost the will to move, the ability to fight. He just lay there as his assaulter did what he wanted.

The face stared into Timothy's for a moment. “Those're real?” He gently stroked Timothy's face and lifted a tear from it. “You're good at this, huh?”

“Please stop...”

“Sorry. Only paying you a compliment.” The man thrusted harder than he had before and let out a slight moan. He was finished. He lay there for a moment before retracting himself from within Timothy's body. “You mind if I use your bathroom?”

Timothy didn't respond, but the man took his silence for conformation. He picked up his pants and walked into the adjoining room. There, for the first time, Timothy saw his molester's face. He was a balding man, with deep brown skin and eyes as dark as the night. He didn't acknowledge Timothy as he went about his business, he just casually stood before the toilet.

His cellphone was plugged in on the table by the bed- with it he could call for help. He could stop this man from hurting him again, maybe from killing him.

Timothy tried to reach out, but his arm ignored his commands. Something invisible was restraining him and his arms just lay there, curled into his chest. He tried again, but he couldn't. As though the man's arms were still holding him down.

After a moment the rapist walked towards him. Timothy's legs instinctual pulled in- trying to protect himself from a second intrusion, but the man only chuckled again. “You're really committed to this victim s**t, huh?” He sat on the bed next to Timothy. “That's hot.” He muttered as he gently ran his hand along Timothy's leg.

“But it's getting late. We shouldn't go again.” His hand withdrew inches from Timothy's chest. “It was fun, though. Hit me up some time- we'll do it again.” and with that, the man walked out of Timothy's room- leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and the horror of what dreams may come.

Randy was tired. He had been at work all day, but wasn't sure if he'd gotten anything done. He worked at a local gym as a personal trainer, but didn't find very much satisfaction in his job. If he were truly able to articulate it, he would recognize the reason he didn't feel accomplished. It was because his work wasn't why he went to work.

Of course he liked the job, but he really wanted to use it as a vehicle for his true desire. He wanted to meet a cute boy to settle down with. Someone small, someone attractive, someone innocent. He had a thing for innocence.

Randy got out of his car and walked towards his apartment. It wasn't really a nice place. A kind of slummy building, truth be known, but on his salary he couldn't afford more, and he had done his best to make this house feel like a home.

As he walked into his living room, however; his mind was on something else entirely. You see, watching attractive, half naked men all day had made Randy... excited. He wasn't looking for anything romantic this time, just a quick lay so that he could sleep better.

To that end, Randy booted up his laptop and went on to Craigslist- the only place he'd be sure to find action.

The first few adds didn't really interest him. “Twink for bear” “Cub for cub” “Tranny looking for fun”, and then he saw something that he liked: “Rape RP.” Like I said, Randy had a thing for innocence, but I feel that I need to elaborate a little. He wanted someone innocent so that he could protect them during the day, but destroy their innocents at night. Finding someone that would be dark just for him was his biggest fascination, and suddenly the opportunity had presented itself.

Randy clicked on the add and was greeted with a shirtless photograph of his dream. The pictured boy was short, probably only a little over five feet, and had shaggy brown hair. “Hi, my name is Tim. I'm looking for someone to 'break in' to my house and 'rape' me. No condoms please, the dirtier the better. Looking for now.”

Randy was more excited than ever- could this boy be his soul mate? Could he be the boy that Randy was looking for at the gym- in utterly the wrong place. He quickly replayed to the message with a picture and as much information as he could give, but he didn't get a reply right away.

It scared him. What if he had come on too strong? What if he wasn't hot enough? What if- ah, one unread message. When he opened the email he was pleased to see that he was wrong- the boy was interested. “I've never fucked a black guy before. Come on over.” Were his exact words.

Randy couldn't move fast enough. He quickly pulled together some clothing- as 'rapist-y' as he could muster- and ran out the door, all the while texting this mysterious, yet enchanting stranger. “I'll be there in ten minutes.”

“Ok, take your time.”

“How do you wanna do this?”

“Just come in and go at it. Don't try to talk to me- it'll ruin it.”

“Ok. Walk in and do it. Got it.”

“No condom. I wanna feel everything.”

“You got it. Outside.”

“Great. The code for the door is 12849.”

Randy walked towards the elevator in the lobby. It was nice- a lot nicer than his place. For a moment he thought that he'd quite like to move in here, but then he remembered; he would have to really impress this boy to get him to consider a relationship. He would have to be fierce- brutal. Cold. He would have to make this feel completely real.

He reached the door minutes later. Of course, he had started to have second thoughts. What if this is the wrong door? What if he doesn't like it? What if I'm too chicken s**t to do it? He gently jiggled the handle. The door was unlocked, so there was no way that this was the wrong house. After a few minutes of hemming and hawing Randy pushed open the door and entered the darkened apartment.

After a moment; the bedroom door (across the room) cracked open. The light from behind him illuminated the face of the boy he had been dreaming of. He was beautiful. Simply beautiful. Randy wanted to say something corny, but that would be breaking character. That would make him fail.

Eventually the boy asked “Who are you!?” He was trying to save the role play- what if Randy had already messed things up? Then again, what if this was all part of the plan? Of course it was, he was really quite a good actor. It made Randy chuckle a little bit. This was almost convincing.

He began to walk forward- he didn't know if he was allowed to speak, but didn't want to risk it. The boy slammed the door and retreated further into the apartment, but Randy was game for the chase. Just like last time, Randy jiggled the door nob. He didn't think it would be locked, but you never know. Maybe he'd have to break down the door. No, it gently slid open.

The boy was on the other side of the room- armed with what looked like a bat. Randy braced himself for impact. He didn't expect this to be painful, and it wasn't. The bat was made of plastic. Randy almost laughed it- “Authentic.” He laughed as the boy cowered. Using a fake bat was inspired.

He picked him up- he was already shirtless. This boy knew what he wanted. He gently tossed him down onto the bed, making sure not to hurt him. He looked at the defenseless boy as he lay there, and then he was filled with a new sense of character. He was going to make this boy believe that this was real. “I'm gonna f**k you, little man, and they're ain't nothing you can do about it.” Randy thought that it sounded a little corny, maybe insincere, but the boy was shaking like a leaf.

Randy pulled off his shirt and climbed on top of the boy- gently moving in- he was going to kiss him! You can't kiss someone in a rape role play, that's way too romantic. He opted instead for a gentle bite on the neck.

Of course, the boy pretended to struggle, but he wasn't really trying. Randy barley felt anything as he pinned the boys arms down. Then he tried to kick him. Obviously this was a sign for things to go further, and so they did. Randy caught his legs and pulled off his pants to reveal exactly what he had wanted.

He couldn't help but to study his body for a moment. Every crevasse, every hair, was beautiful in the moonlit room. Randy considered abandoning the rape play all together- instead wishing to make love to him, but this was what he wanted... and Randy wanted him to be satisfied.

After a few minutes of what Randy thought was the most brutal f*****g he had ever given (with no form of lubrication or even a moment's relent) he saw something. The boy had long since given up struggling- the pleasure had won out- but now he was crying.

Randy leaned in and scooped up a tear. “Those're real?” He gently stroked the boy's face. “You're good at this, huh?”

“Please stop...” Randy was scared for a moment. Did he break character? He didn't mean to, but he was trying to prove that he was more than just a one night stand.

“Sorry. Only paying you a compliment.” The boy didn't respond, instead everything got more passionate. The two had really connected and this was the big finish.

Randy noticed that the boy hadn't cum, but he was sure that it wasn't something he wanted. He knew that this boy was more interested in the experience than the climax. “You mind if I use your bathroom?”

The boy didn't respond, and so Randy took his silence for consent. He had just had unprotected sex with a perfect stranger, and the fear of contracting something was suddenly fresh. He was pretty sure that he'd read it online- that you could stop yourself from catching anything if you pee right after sex. Even if he hadn't, it sounded true.

Before he left, Randy tried to get to know his playmate. He was still lying on the bed, curled up in a little ball. He was trying hard to maintain the authenticity of the scene. “You're really committed to this victim s**t, huh?” He sat on the bed and ran his hand up the boy's leg. “That's hot.”

Then Randy remembered that he had work the next day- that and he didn't want to appear over eager. “But it's getting late. We shouldn't go again. It was fun, though. Hit me up some time- we'll do it again.”

Randy left that night with a spring in his step- sure that he had found the love of his life.

Rob was angry. He hadn't wanted his relationship with Timmy to end- love last forever right? But here's the thing with love. It isn't a positive, not all the time anyway. Love and hate are a spectrum, and right now Rob had landed solidly on the left hand side.

Instead of going to work that day he just lay in bed, throwing darts at the wall. Trying to think of a way to get Timmy back- to get back at Timmy. He decided to call. “Hey, Timmy... it's Rob. Uh, listen, I don't know why you dumped me, but maybe we can work it out. Call me?”

He waited. He waited a full twenty four minutes before calling again. “Please Timmy. I really miss you and I... I think I loved you. Just give me another chance, huh?”

Still nothing. In thirty minutes he had left four more messages, but Timmy would not respond. He was giving Rob the cold shoulder, and that was not ok. How to get back at Timmy?

Then he had the idea- a terrible idea that can only come from the blackest pits of a maniac’s psyche. He sat at his computer and began to type: “Rape RP.” It didn't take long for the add he had posted in Timmy's name to get responses- Timmy was cute, and every other man in the world wanted him... maybe after he'd been used he would know that Rob wasn't all that bad.

Then he got the email- A huge black guy with a nine inch dick. He said he hadn't been tested in four months but he thought he was clean. He even said he'd done community theater. He was perfect. “I've never fucked a black guy before. Come over.”

Rob raced to his car. He wouldn't get to watch the actual event, but maybe he could hear it. Maybe he could see something. His phone lit up. “I'll be there in ten minutes.”

“Ok, take your time.” Rob wanted to make sure he got there first.

“How do you wanna do this?” Was this guy stupid?

“Just come in and go at it. Don't try to talk to me- it'll ruin it.”

“Ok. Walk in and do it. Got it.”

“No condom. I wanna feel everything.” Rob really hoped the man had aids, or at least gonorrhea or something.

“You got it. Outside.” A jolt shot down Rob's spine. He was just pulling into the parking lot, but he wanted to see the guy. He wanted to know Timmy was getting what he deserved.

Sure enough, standing in front of the glass door, waiting to learn the entry code, was the man of Rob's dreams, and Timmy's nightmares. “Great. The code for the door is 12849.” Rob smiled a wicked smile as the man walked in. His mouth spread from ear to ear, and he didn't stop laughing for a very, very long time.