My Big Fat Gay Life (35 page)

Sebastian took a quick intake of breath. “You want me to kill you? Put you out of your misery?”

“Yes. This is no way to live. I have to be cared for, for the rest of my life. Believe me, the irony isn’t lost on me. I just hope I don’t have a carer like me. I’m trapped like this for the rest of my life. Help me.”

Sebastian raised his hand to his chin and was silent for a few moments, a contemplative look on his face as he stared unseeing into the distance. As I watched, an expression of pity finally worked its way across his face. He must have been told that I was now a quadriplegic. Finally, he spoke.

“The part of me that still loves you would love to end your suffering, however the part of me that hates you wants you to suffer for what you did to my Father. I have nobody to blame but myself for letting you treat me the way you did, but Donovan was defenceless. You’re scum.”

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t get emotional. He merely stated it all as fact. I struggled to wear an expression of sorrow and regret, in an attempt to manipulate him into assisting me with suicide.

“OK, deal,” he continued. “If you tell the police the truth about your injuries, then I’ll find a way to end your suffering.”

He stared into my eyes, and I nodded slowly. “Deal,” I croaked. Sebastian stalked from my room.

My Big Fat Gay Life

Day 15 – Day 21: Closure

However, after all my trials and tribulations, I know not to grow complacent. Complacency is an open invitation for the Universe to test people and, although tests are good for the soul, I’ve had enough for the time being. So I continue on my path with forward momentum, ready to face any new challenges while still enjoying the blessings the Universe has bestowed on me, and never, ever, taking anything for granted.

Sebastian, Day 21: Closure

Narratives from:

OK, I admit it. I’m a complete piss and cum slut. I just can’t get enough of those lovely liquids.

I’d just finished my last set on stage and changed out of my stage outfit. Now, I’d assumed my favourite position and was waiting for my first donor. My face burned from being scrubbed of make-up, and I was exhilarated - still on a high from my performances.

I didn’t have long to wait. Within seconds of assuming my position, the door swung open and in walked two men. I recognised one of them. His name’s Kento, and over the years he’s donated loads of loads. Accompanying him was a very handsome shirtless man with black hair and a rather large bulge in his jeans. The stranger stopped short in shock when he saw me lying in the urinal, giving me the opportunity to take in his wide chest, pecs, and v-shaped torso.

“Who’s that?” the stranger asked Kento with wide eyes, pointing at me.

“Oh, that’s Mark,” Kento replied. “He’s a regular. Just ignore him and pretend he isn’t there.”

“Ummm… OK,” the handsome newbie said, obviously still unsure.

“It’s easy,” Kento said, stepping up to the urinal. “Let me show you.”

Kento pulled out his cock and kept chatting to his friend as his hot stream of piss started to flow. I writhed in ecstasy, rubbing Kento’s piss all over my naked body. The stranger stepped up next to Kento and unzipped his jeans. I licked my lips in anticipation.

“What do you think will happen with Sebastian and Matt?” the stranger asked Kento, pulling out his meaty cock. I gasped in appreciation.

“You mean, do I think Seb will kill Matt? I doubt it,” Kento said. You’d be surprised the things I hear when lying in the bottom of a urinal in a men’s toilet. Although in clubs such as this, the labels ‘Men’ and ‘Women’ on toilet doors tend to have no meaning. Women often squat over me and make their own donations.

“But Seb promised him,” the stranger observed, “and Seb always keeps his promises. Tough situation for him to be in right now! How are you coping with the Matt thing? Not feeling guilty or anything like that?”

“Not at all!” Kento exclaimed, a bit too sharply and quickly in my opinion. “I didn’t do anything wrong. He did this to himself.”

The men were silent for a few seconds. Kento’s hot stream of piss was still splashing over my body, but the stranger’s meaty cock had yet to begin.

“This is ridiculous,” the stranger said eventually. “I’ve never had a shy bladder before!”

“Just relax,” Kento told him. “It’ll come eventually.”

After a few more moments of silence, a few drops of piss leaked out of the stranger’s cock. Then the drops turned into a stream, and I was being doused with his hot piss. He was so handsome and his cock so meaty that my own cock grew hard, so I reached down and fondled it gently. I opened my mouth to try and catch some of liquids being donated by the two hot guys. Kento obliged by directing his stream onto my face for a few seconds.

“I need to find some new friends,” the stranger said to Kento. He was staring at the ceiling in an attempt to avoid looking at me. That’s fine: I don’t care as long as he pisses on me. “I try to be open-minded and accepting of people’s quirks and idiosyncrasies, but this is too much!”

“Mark loves this,” Kento told him. “Just think of waterfalls. How’s your new job going?”

“It’s great!” the handsome stranger replied, smiling for the first time. “I’m not getting paid much, at least until I finish my training, but I feel like I’m helping people and making a difference.”

“I admire you,” Kento stated. “Approaching the Rape Crisis Centre and telling them you want to support male victims of rape took some balls.”

“It’s easy really,” the stranger said. “Once a week I host a group meeting by leading off with my own story of rape, and the rest of the time I make myself available for any guys that aren’t yet ready for a group setting.”

“Whatever happened to your rapist?” Kento asked him. “I don’t recall hearing of any trials or anything like that.”

“He wasn’t arrested. By the time I came to terms with things, it was too late. It would have been a case of he-said, he-said.”

“And what about your nude modelling and cleaning business? Do you still do that?” Kento enquired.

“Of course! I don’t take on new private clients anymore, but I still work for my old clients in their homes, and I have regular gigs as a life model at the art schools. So I still get to be nude most of the day.”

“Good! I guess it’s difficult being naked at the crisis centre with all those traumatised people who’ve been raped by men. The sight of a cock could send them over the edge, no matter how good it looks.”

“Men aren’t the only rapists,” the stranger stated simply. He didn’t elaborate, despite Kento’s puzzled look.

Eventually both streams of piss dried up and, much to my regret, the handsome stranger tucked his cock out of sight and zipped up his jeans.

“Let’s go,” he said to Kento, stepping away from the urinal.

“You go,” Kento told him. “I’ll catch up. Ian’s away and it’s been days since I’ve cum. I’m sure Mark here would appreciate a big load right about now.”

With a stunned expression on his face, the handsome stranger practically fled from the toilet. Kento put his left forearm on the wall above the urinal and rested his head on it, then started manipulating his cock. It grew rock hard in seconds.

I watched as Kento stroked his big black cock. Before too long, he grunted as a thick white stream of cum erupted from it. I felt the heat as it hit my legs and stomach, and I squirmed with pleasure. Kento zipped up and left without a word.

Shortly after, the toilet door swung open with a bang and my next donor walked in, obviously drunk and – hopefully - with a very full bladder.