Our lovely 'violence charged' Alistair thought dating Eva seriously would tune down the attraction. Guess he didn't see this coming. Poor boy. 😔
~ ALISTAIR ~ My backpack drops on the chair with a thud and I draw out the other chair before settling before him. All the while, he didn't lift his head from the book he was reading. Fucker. It took me a lot of private chastising sessions before I finally decided to come to this lesson again. I'm not a coward and me not coming or wanting to see him is like me proving to him that there's something going on with me when in reality there's… not. Or, at least, I don't want him thinking anything. I don't want any new normal. Give me some time, and I'll be back to normal. My fingers drum on the table impatiently as my knee bounces, trying to get his attention. But the silence draws on. “Hey.” I call between clenched teeth before leaning forward and yanking the book away from his grip. Then, I drop it on the table with a thud. He tilts his head up slowly, face bored like usual. Like he wasn't at Ray's pool party whispering shit to me and grinding his hard dick against mine. I keep
~ CALVIN ~ Is this what it feels like to be ignored? Not the usual ignoring—the kind that comes with glares and eye rolls, the kind that happens after I’ve cornered him, after I’ve pushed too far. No, this is different. This silence is deafening. Messages, unanswered. Unopened. Calls, ignored. Voice notes, unplayed. Alistair Morano is avoiding me. This isn’t a game anymore. I know his type—cocky, self-righteous, proud to a fault. Won’t admit to wanting something until it’s forced into their hands. That way, they can pretend it wasn’t their choice, pretend they had no control. It’s pathetic. So why the hell isn’t he here? My fingers twitch, and I double-tap my phone’s screen for what must be the hundredth time today. The five hundred dollars he sent me this morning courtesy of standing order, is still untouched. Fuck. Must be ironic wanting someone that has me on a standing order right? My dick doesn't care. My body doesn't care. I lean back into my chair, tipping my head a
~ ALISTAIR ~ I’m having a sexuality crisis. It’s messing with my head. My fucking sanity. I'm not gay. I can't be. I'm just… confused. Or cursed. Probably both. I like girls. Tits are great. Fantastic, even. He just… kissed me first. I didn't even see it coming. Technically. And maybe I kissed back. But that’s adrenaline. Not attraction. Could’ve happened to anyone. Right? Right? Fuck. This isn't working anymore. I've tried so hard to tell myself what I want to believe but now, it's not working anymore. My fingers tug at my hair in frustration until pain shoots through my skull. Then, my eyes dart to my bed which had my laptop on it. But ignorance is bliss. I don't want to go down that path, it looks like the path of no return. Confusion gnaws at my insides again before I hop down the stool and hurry to my bed. A little research won't hurt right? I pull up the lid of my touchscreen laptop and slide it open, the ridiculously large fonts welcoming me. Then, I hop on Ch
~ CALVIN ~La Debauché is nothing like the trash clubs frat boys sneak into. It's velvet shadows and whispered rules. It's power dressed in silence and control, the kind of place that makes sin feels sacred.Politicians, high ranking officials, sons of people in the higher-ups, bi-curious dudes, dudes like me, people that are married only as a façade. Name them, they are all here. As long as you are able to afford the expensive membership card and you are a regular customer, you already have a name in this exclusive gay club.I have a name here too.And this is my chessboard.The moment I saw the anonymous booking with the name, Moranorebel, I was a little confused.Can it be Brandon?No, can't probably be right?He doesn't know I frequent here and the type of vibe Brandon gives off doesn't include one that visits gay clubs with an Alias like this.Which means only one thing.Moranorebel.I laughed. Loud.That arrogant, conflicted, shame-drenched little hot shit. But the payment was
~ ALISTAIR ~I didn’t know who walked in. That was the whole point.No names. No questions. Just darkness and heat and silence.Curiosity had driven me here—curiosity and something uglier, something I didn’t want to name. I told myself I just wanted to know what it felt like. That I’d apply for the dominant role later. That this wasn’t me giving in—it was me exploring.But the second his hands touched me, I knew I’d fucked up.Not because I didn’t like it. But because I did. Too much.He didn’t rush. Didn’t grope. Didn’t treat me like a plaything or a conquest. His fingers were deliberate. Reverent. I bite my lips as his finger grazes the tip of my hard cock, precum leaking into the trousers I was made to wear.“Say it. Say you want this.” He says, his voice unfamiliar.“I want this.” I gasp out. It's a lie.I didn’t want this.I needed it.I needed to stop thinking. Stop feeling. I needed to forget that my life was spiraling, that my father thought I was useless and he will think m
~ ALISTAIR ~ I shouldn't crave this pain but I couldn't hold back the moan that slips past my throat through my clenched teeth, my brain failing to register the familiarity in his hand. In his voice.“Please…” i whisper and I don't even know what I'm begging for. More or less?Should he stop because of the pain or should he continue because of the pleasure. I… don't know.Fuck.“Dirty boy.” He growls into my ear.I shiver when I feel his thumb swiping the tip of my cock which is leaking precum and his jerking shifts to focus more on the tip of my cock.“Fuck.” I curse, eye closed between the blindfold, thrashing within the binds, forcing in air through my mouth, sweat and tears trickling down my face.“I'm going to cum.” I grit out.“I won't let you.” He says, his voice low before he comes to a stop.Fucker.A sob claws at my throat, my chest heaving while I raise my hip, chasing the friction.“Please…” The words escape before I can stop it.I feel his hands on my lips, probing my tee
~ ALISTAIR ~I don't leave my room.Not for breakfast. Not for class. Not even when the fire alarm goes off in the hallway for two whole minutes before someone slams it back into silence.I'm curled up on my bed, face buried in the same damn pillow I screamed into last night. My body still aches in places it shouldn’t. My hole is sore. My throat burns. My brain is fried.And my fucking lips still tingle from his kiss. And I can still taste his cum in my mouth no matter how much toothpaste and mouthwash I'd gulped.Calvin.Calvin fucking Rutledge.The guy I hate. The fake nerd. The know-it-all. The smug academic coach I swore I’d never let get the best of me.He didn’t just get the best of me.He wrecked me.I drag a hand down my face, hard. If I could rip the memory from my skull and lobotomize myself with a spoon, I would. I want to forget. I need to forget.But I can’t.Every time I blink, I’m back there, tied up, blindfolded, trembling, begging like a fucking slut. And the worst pa
Hi Calistair's passengers! Basically, I have four 2 hours lectures today. I'm currently in 1 and I didn't stockpile chapters prior to today(my mistake). And I'm sorry to break it, but update will be very delayed today and I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you today by publishing 3 chapters after my lectures and a short nap but that will be until I get back to my hostel. Thank you so much for understanding. 💗
~ CALVIN ~ I wasn't supposed to be here. I mean that literally. I had an assignment due, a pile of notes to review. And give sleeping another shot since I haven't been having enough these days. But here I am. The bleachers were packed, loud with cheers and the occasional boo of screaming idiots. The soccer field is alive with energy. It's the second half of the game against Veritas university. I told myself I just needed air. A walk. Something to clear my head. Somehow, that walk led me here. And somehow, my eyes found him. Alistair Morano, number 7, black jersey clinging to his frame, hair slicked back with sweat. He looked like sin dipped in sunlight, sharp jaw set in frustration as he screams something I couldn't even hear through the loud boos to his teammates. I watch as a guy from the Veritas team strikes the ball toward Aurum goalpost, the ball slipping past the keeper and into the net. The crowd with the yellow flag erupts into loud cheers. “Da. mi. Kay! Da. mi. Kay
~ ALISTAIR ~I don't go to class.I know Ray would be pissed—probably yap my ear off once he realized the seat he saved for me would stay empty.Instead, I head toward the faculty library.Don’t ask me why.I can’t read in there. The fonts in the textbooks are too damn small. The words blur together like ants on crack.So I just sat there.Staring into nothing.Replaying that scene over and over in my head until it all blurs into white noise.Then, I must’ve passed out. Thirty-two minutes later, I woke up with a stiff neck and a decision.I’d had enough.I grab my backpack and trudge out, the sunlight slicing through my thoughts as I head to the parking lot. Blast music at full volume the whole ride home, hoping to drown the noise in my head.Home is empty.And I don’t mean no-family-empty. I mean clinically sterile.The only signs of life were the patrol guards sweating in tailored suits, their sunglasses probably like mirrors hiding judgments they didn’t dare voice.I respond to the
~ CALVIN ~“I have dyslexia.”The words hit harder than a slap.I stand there, frozen, as those three words echo in my head over and over again—louder than the rushing blood in my ears, louder than anything else.I have dyslexia.Fuck.How didn’t I see it? The missed words, the awkward pauses when he read aloud, the sudden bursts of frustration when we studied… It all makes sense now. And I thought he was just being lazy, or stubborn, or—God, I was such an asshole.He wasn’t ignoring the work. He was fighting a silent battle I didn’t even bother to notice. And now I feel like shit.He told me like a weapon. Like a secret he'd hidden for so long, only to use it now to hurt me. And the worst part? It worked. Because I deserve it.I still don’t move. My feet feel glued to the floor, and my chest feels… hollow. Like something just got yanked out of me and I didn’t even realize how much it mattered until it was gone. And this isn't about me wanting to fuck him, it's because Alistair Moran
~ ALISTAIR ~ I can't keep running forever. And so, on the second day of my escape, Ray decided he'd had enough. He barged into my room like a goddamn hurricane and dragged me out. Now here I am, trudging toward our next lecture, his hand on my shoulder like he's the one in charge. Meanwhile, he’s rattling on about something, probably to get on my nerves even more. I couldn’t care less. My eyes are glued to the ground, and all I can think about is not running into him. Not him. Not Calvin. Please, not today. So, I whisper a silent prayer, though I’m not the praying type. I just want to make it through without having to face the mess I created. Ray grips my shoulder tightly and I turn to him slowly. “What?” He chuckles. “Your mind is not even here.” “And so?” “You still haven't told me why you didn't come to school for two days, bitch.” I roll my eyes inwardly. That's one of the problems about having one close friend that's good at reading energies. This fucker knew that I'v
Hi Calistair's passengers! Basically, I have four 2 hours lectures today. I'm currently in 1 and I didn't stockpile chapters prior to today(my mistake). And I'm sorry to break it, but update will be very delayed today and I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you today by publishing 3 chapters after my lectures and a short nap but that will be until I get back to my hostel. Thank you so much for understanding. 💗
~ ALISTAIR ~I don't leave my room.Not for breakfast. Not for class. Not even when the fire alarm goes off in the hallway for two whole minutes before someone slams it back into silence.I'm curled up on my bed, face buried in the same damn pillow I screamed into last night. My body still aches in places it shouldn’t. My hole is sore. My throat burns. My brain is fried.And my fucking lips still tingle from his kiss. And I can still taste his cum in my mouth no matter how much toothpaste and mouthwash I'd gulped.Calvin.Calvin fucking Rutledge.The guy I hate. The fake nerd. The know-it-all. The smug academic coach I swore I’d never let get the best of me.He didn’t just get the best of me.He wrecked me.I drag a hand down my face, hard. If I could rip the memory from my skull and lobotomize myself with a spoon, I would. I want to forget. I need to forget.But I can’t.Every time I blink, I’m back there, tied up, blindfolded, trembling, begging like a fucking slut. And the worst pa
~ ALISTAIR ~ I shouldn't crave this pain but I couldn't hold back the moan that slips past my throat through my clenched teeth, my brain failing to register the familiarity in his hand. In his voice.“Please…” i whisper and I don't even know what I'm begging for. More or less?Should he stop because of the pain or should he continue because of the pleasure. I… don't know.Fuck.“Dirty boy.” He growls into my ear.I shiver when I feel his thumb swiping the tip of my cock which is leaking precum and his jerking shifts to focus more on the tip of my cock.“Fuck.” I curse, eye closed between the blindfold, thrashing within the binds, forcing in air through my mouth, sweat and tears trickling down my face.“I'm going to cum.” I grit out.“I won't let you.” He says, his voice low before he comes to a stop.Fucker.A sob claws at my throat, my chest heaving while I raise my hip, chasing the friction.“Please…” The words escape before I can stop it.I feel his hands on my lips, probing my tee
~ ALISTAIR ~I didn’t know who walked in. That was the whole point.No names. No questions. Just darkness and heat and silence.Curiosity had driven me here—curiosity and something uglier, something I didn’t want to name. I told myself I just wanted to know what it felt like. That I’d apply for the dominant role later. That this wasn’t me giving in—it was me exploring.But the second his hands touched me, I knew I’d fucked up.Not because I didn’t like it. But because I did. Too much.He didn’t rush. Didn’t grope. Didn’t treat me like a plaything or a conquest. His fingers were deliberate. Reverent. I bite my lips as his finger grazes the tip of my hard cock, precum leaking into the trousers I was made to wear.“Say it. Say you want this.” He says, his voice unfamiliar.“I want this.” I gasp out. It's a lie.I didn’t want this.I needed it.I needed to stop thinking. Stop feeling. I needed to forget that my life was spiraling, that my father thought I was useless and he will think m
~ CALVIN ~La Debauché is nothing like the trash clubs frat boys sneak into. It's velvet shadows and whispered rules. It's power dressed in silence and control, the kind of place that makes sin feels sacred.Politicians, high ranking officials, sons of people in the higher-ups, bi-curious dudes, dudes like me, people that are married only as a façade. Name them, they are all here. As long as you are able to afford the expensive membership card and you are a regular customer, you already have a name in this exclusive gay club.I have a name here too.And this is my chessboard.The moment I saw the anonymous booking with the name, Moranorebel, I was a little confused.Can it be Brandon?No, can't probably be right?He doesn't know I frequent here and the type of vibe Brandon gives off doesn't include one that visits gay clubs with an Alias like this.Which means only one thing.Moranorebel.I laughed. Loud.That arrogant, conflicted, shame-drenched little hot shit. But the payment was