Dream Job

"No, I didn't offer you anything, you bastard. Get off me!" I yelled loudly.

"I fucking warned you, you little bitch. It didn't have to go like this." He stepped back and yanked me up off the counter surface. His hand slapped over my mouth and his other gripped around my waist pinning my arms to my sides.

He lifted and carried me, kicking and thrashing in his arms, into my bedroom. He pressed me down into the bed, crushing me into the mattress.

A second later he was shoving a cloth into my mouth, pushing it in with his fingers aggressively. I tried to fight it with my tongue and he just jammed it in harder. I was afraid I'd choke on it. I stopped struggling before he actually killed me.

He held me down, my face still smashed into the bedding with a huge wad of fabric in my mouth. His other hand reached for the waist of my jeans and pulled them down over my ass.

They were old, soft jeans that were slightly baggy, so they just slipped over my hips and gave no resistance to his attack. I tried to fight back as I realized what he was planning, but I was too weak in comparison.

"This is what you want and you know it. You've been offering this tight ass to me for weeks. It's about time I got to enjoy it." He said it softly, but with such malice in his voice it scared me to death.

I was bawling my eyes out now. I was terrified of this man I thought was gentle just a few minutes ago. I tried to talk around the gag, but it was no use. I was completely trapped. He was going to rape me.

He pulled my underwear down to join my jeans below my ass. His hand came down on my right butt cheek, hard. It stung and I tensed as I tried to pull away from the slap.

He slapped the same cheek over and over until it burned. My tears continued to stream down my face, soaking the bedspread I'd just gotten a week ago.

I heard him unzip his own pants and fumble with his waistbands while still holding me prisoner under his large body. I struggled harder.

"Stop fighting me. You don't have to pretend anymore. We both know you want this." He sounded cold and unfeeling, nothing like the guy I'd been friends with.

I shook my head "no" and fought to get him to understand me. He had no intention of stopping no matter what I did. I felt helpless.

I felt his dick against my skin and I screamed in my throat, barely getting any sounds out around the cloth I nearly choked on. He pushed it between my cheeks and I heard him groan.

I felt him shift positions and then he bent my body at my waist so my ass was higher in the air, and he pulled my pants down further. And then his skin was on mine again and I struggled in vain.

He pushed into me, using no lube, not even his saliva. I pulled away as hard as I could but he just smashed my face into the bed harder. He kept pushing into me, dry.

It hurt so badly. He was getting frustrated by the resistance of my body but yet he did nothing to help ease his own way. I was afraid he'd literally rip me open like this.

"You like it when it hurts, don't you? You're going to take this cock, bitch." He didn't sound remotely familiar anymore. A complete stranger was raping me in my bed.

Eventually he spit onto his erection and that made it slightly less painful. He pushed all the way in and started thrusting hard, pounding me into the bed. He pulled both my arms behind my back and held them both in one large hand.

His hips slamming into me held me in place as my twisted arms ached behind my back, my shoulders screaming in protest. The gag in my mouth wouldn't budge even as I cried out into it constantly.

"You feel so good, so fucking tight. You love my big cock in your ass, I can tell." He spoke his lies as he raped me for at least ten minutes.

He came inside me and collapsed onto my body, squishing me down into the bed as he panted into my ear. "Fuck yeah, baby. You were worth the wait. So god-damned tight. I loved using that little hole."

He started to roll off me, but he still held my arms behind my back. "I'm going to take that gag out, but you better not scream or I'll break your fucking shoulders." He sounded calm and cold again.

He reached over with his free hand and pulled the fabric out. My jaw ached from being held open for so long. My tongue was dry and my throat hurt from screaming into the gag the whole time. I didn't make a sound other than an involuntary whimper.

"Good boy, Tristan. Let's get you some water." He yanked me by my twisted arms, forcing me to a standing position, with my pants and underwear nearly at my knees and his cum dripping from my ass.

"Fuck you." I mumbled under my breath as he tried to pull up my pants with his one free hand.

"I'm going to let you pull up your pants. If you try anything, I will fuck you, like you asked me to just now. Gladly. Try me." He released my hands, which fell limp at my sides.

My arms and shoulders screamed in pain after being pinned so hard for so long. I cried out, but made sure I wasn't too loud. I fumbled with my clothes, my fingers numb and throbbing as blood rushed into them.

With both his hands now free, Porter yanked my pants up, nearly lifting me off the ground. "Fucked you so good you can't move, huh? Let's go to the kitchen. Quietly."

I numbly walked to the kitchen we'd painted together less than an hour ago. He reached into the fridge and handed me a bottle of water.

I trembled as I tried to unscrew the cap. He reached over and undid it for me. I refused to look up at him. Now open, I placed the bottle against my mouth and tried to drink, but I was starting to crumble.

I was on the verge of breaking down. I fought the panic. I knew he'd probably leave sooner if I could act calm and normal. Some semblance of normal anyway.

I took a shaky deep breath and tried to drink again. I got some water into my mouth and swirled it around, trying to wash away the memory of the gag and the dryness. I swallowed it down.

I just stood there in my kitchen, looking at the floor. I set the bottle of water on the counter. I felt him getting closer. I stood frozen.

"I hope I didn't hurt you. It got a little rougher than I expected, but I had a great time." His hands were on my upper arms now and I tried not to react.

He'd had a great time?!? What the fuck? He acted like he hadn't just raped me. His narrative the whole time was that I wanted it. He was either delusional or manipulative or both.

I just wanted him to leave, so I said nothing. He finally dropped his hands. He huffed out his breath, like he was exasperated.

"Well, that's it. I guess a "thank you" for my help was too much to ask. Text me later. I'll see you Monday." He turned and walked out of the kitchen and out of the apartment.

I snapped out of it long enough to lunge for the front door and lock all three of the locks. I slid to the floor and buried my face in my hands on my knees. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were dried out. I didn't know what to do.

I should call the cops, but would they believe me? What was I going to do? I couldn't tell my friends and family in San Francisco that I'd been raped. Most of them were against me moving here alone in the first place.

I didn't have any other friends in Seattle yet. Porter had consumed all my time since I'd met him. Was that his plan? Isolate me so he could assault me? Was I just paranoid? Was today just a fluke or had he planned this?

I finally got off the floor and walked into the kitchen. I hated the color now. He'd ruined it for me. I forced myself into my bedroom. I had to see the scene of the crime.

My new bedding was ugly to me now. I'd been so excited about it until today. The fabric ball on the bed that he'd gagged me with was a pair of my underwear, I knew now that I could see them. They were wet with my saliva and wrinkled from being jammed nearly down my throat.

The bed was wet where my face had been. My tears and my drool leaving evidence of my struggle. There was proof of his orgasm, where the semen had leaked out of my abused hole. Another sticky spot where my body had produced pre-cum.

Porter. My friend. He'd come to help me and instead he'd ruined my whole life. My apartment was tainted. My dream job would be a nightmare. I felt isolated from my friends and family more than ever. I was ashamed.

I stripped the bedding and put it in black garbage bags. I dropped it all down the chute in the hallway into the garbage.

Back in the apartment, I sat in the tub and let the shower run for close to an hour. I curled up on the couch and cried until I slept. Sunday was pretty much a repeat of that routine. This time I threw away my clothes.

Monday morning came and I called into work. I couldn't face the kids, the faculty and staff. I couldn't face Porter. I still hadn't dealt with any part of it. I didn't even know if I was going to report him or not.

On Tuesday I got up and went to work. The first person I saw in the morning was the principal. She asked how I was feeling. I said I was much better and she moved along with her day.

I didn't see Porter all morning, but I heard him in the hall, joking around with the kids. It sounded normal and it crushed my soul.

At lunch I was in for a shock. I entered the teachers lounge and I found Porter leaning back in his chair laughing with several other teachers.

"I meant to ask you about your trip yesterday. Did you and Jessica have a good time?" The calculus teacher, Bonnie, asked Porter.

"We sure did. It was nice to get away." He replied.

I stuck to the perimeter of the room as I made my way to the fridge to get my lunch bag. I couldn't help but wonder who Jessica was. How could he have gone on a trip when he was attacking me?

Once I grabbed my lunch, I exited the opposite side of the room into the hall and then out to the parking lot. I walk-ran to my car and jumped in. I started the engine and got out of the lot as fast as possible. I felt panicky like he was going to follow me. He didn't.

After my lunch break, I went back to school and set up for my next class. Just two minutes before the bell, Porter stopped in my room, which was three quarters full of my kids. I'm sure he planned that. I couldn't react honestly in front of the students.

"Mr. Kellner, glad you're feeling better. We missed you yesterday." He leaned casually near the door as the rest of my students filed in before the bell.

"I need to start class, if you don't mind Mr. Kostas." I didn't look at him as I dismissed him.

"I'll talk to you after school." He said it lightly, but I felt the threat in his words. Or had I imagined that?

The rest of the week was much the same. After school on Wednesday, when I would normally be getting ready to have dinner with Porter, I was sitting in my classroom with a few students working on projects after hours.

"Did you break up with your boyfriend?" Shelby asked quietly from her spot near my desk.

"Shelby, I told you I don't have a boyfriend." I looked back at my laptop.

"Fine, he's not your boyfriend. Did you guys have a fight?" She persisted.

"No, nothing happened at all." I tried to brush her off by pretending to be busier than I was.

"He hasn't been texting you. I haven't seen you smile all week."

"I don't have a boyfriend, seriously. If you're done working, you can put that up and head out, Shelby." I concentrated on my non-existent tasks. Finally taking the hint, she went back to her project and left me alone.

I was nothing but alone now. I was miserable. I'd lost my only friend. He'd turned out to be a monster. The crazy thing is, if he had just asked nicely I'd have voluntarily slept with him. I couldn't understand why he'd taken it without consent instead.

Porter didn't bother me after that. We became strangers at work. Some of the others noticed and asked me about it, but I just said we'd merely grown apart.

It was several weeks after the incident when I found myself at a lunch table with Bonnie. She asked me if I'd met Jessica when Porter and I were more friendly. There was that name again. I casually said no.

"You guys seemed so close, I just figured you'd met the wife." She said as she ate her yogurt cup.

His wife? Porter was married to a woman? What the fuck? I wanted to ask but I didn't dare show any interest.

The next few days I became obsessed about the fact that I didn't know Porter at all. Not only was he able to rape me with no regrets, but he'd hidden the fact he was married. He was a dangerous predator, plain and simple. It became clearer all the time.

As summer break got closer, I got antsy to be done. I would miss the kids so much, but I needed to get away from this place. I wanted to go to San Francisco, but I also didn't. I felt lost and unhappy.

"Hey, are you Tristan?" A voice called out as I loaded stuff into my trunk on the last day of school. I turned to look, but I didn't see anyone. I got creeped out. It was nearly the same question Porter had asked me that first day.

I saw movement as a young man climbed out the passenger seat of Porter's fancy sports car. Was this his latest victim, I couldn't help but wonder. I tensed as he walked towards me.

"Sorry to bother you, but are you Tristan?" He asked again.

I wanted to nod, but he'd gotten out of Porter's car, so I was on high alert. The guy sensed my apprehension and lowered his voice. "You are. Aren't you? It's okay, I won't tell him that we talked."

"Who are you?" I asked, suspicious.

"Devin. Porter's my stepdad. I'm assuming he didn't tell you about me."

I shook my head side to side. I was leery but curious. What else did this kid know?

"Can we talk? Like, maybe tomorrow? Coffee or something?" Devin asked me.

"No, I don't think so. Sorry." I turned back to my car.

"I know he hurt you. I need to know what he did. I hate that man." Devin stopped me in my tracks with that.

I turned back to him and looked into his face. "Is this some sort of game? What do you want?" I tried to sound tough, but I felt tiny.

"No games. I hacked that fuckers phone a while back. I saw your texts. You didn't know about my mom, did you? He's a fucking liar, and worse, I suspect." He raised an eyebrow at me.

"What do you want?" I spit out the words separately, trying not to lose my cool and freak out.

"I want to talk. I want you to tell me what happened. I know something happened. He's scared about something. I think you know what it is. I want to take that piece of shit down before he destroys my mom."

Fuck. This kid wanted to protect his mom. No kid should have to protect a parent from a lying, dangerous predator. Damn him. Both of them. Fuck all three of them. I didn't need to be part of any of this.

"I don't want to talk. I'm sorry."

"Please. I need your help and I think you need mine. Coffee, in a public place. That's all I'm asking." He looked scared now. Was he manipulating me just like Porter had?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I was curious. I was scared. What if it was a trap? What if it wasn't? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Fine. Coffee at seven. Tomorrow morning. Starbucks on Utah." I turned and rushed to my driver's door. I climbed in and never looked back.

At 6:50 the barista called my name and handed me my drink. I sat at a two person table in the center of the room. I felt more safe being exposed in this situation.

A few minutes later I saw Devin walk in. He scanned the room and smiled and waved in acknowledgement as he walked to the counter to order a drink.

Coffee in hand, he came to the table and joined me. "Thanks for meeting me. I know you have no reason to trust me, so really, thank you."

"It's fine." I wanted to say more but I didn't.

"Okay, I'll start. First, you should know that I despise Porter with every fiber of my being. I tried to stop my mom from marrying him. I knew he was a piece of shit the first time I met him." He paused.

"When did they get married?" I asked since I'd been thinking about it since yesterday.

"About four years ago. She's his fourth wife. He's cheated on her several times, but she doesn't believe me or seem to care. It's like she's brainwashed about him." He seemed frustrated.

"You said you hacked his phone?" He said he'd read our texts. I was curious about that.

"Yeah, he's got the weakest password, so it was easy. I read all of your texts. He helped you paint your kitchen and then the texts stopped. What happened?"

I froze up and stared at the table. "How old are you?" I realized he was probably the age of my students. I shouldn't be talking to him about this stuff even if he was trying to protect his mom.

"I'm twenty one. Why?"

"You seemed young. I wanted to make sure you weren't a minor." I took a sip of my iced coffee.

"Not a minor. So, did something happen with Porter? He was acting really weird in the days after your texts stopped. Something was definitely up. Please tell me." He cut right back to the heart of it.

"Yeah, something happened." I looked down at my lap. I hadn't told anyone anything about that day. Talking about it scared me.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I fucking hate him." He looked nearly as upset as I felt and I hadn't even told him anything. But I wanted to. It hit me all of a sudden. I needed to tell him. I didn't know why, but I did.

"I'll start from the beginning." I let out a huge breath and looked at my drink. I couldn't look at him as I told him. "He was really nice to me when I started my new job. We got closer over time. We ate lunch everyday and texted all the time, as you know."

"The texts didn't go back that far. He must have deleted some." Devin offered.

"I didn't know he was married. We went out to dinner almost every Wednesday. What did he say at home about that?" I was really curious how he pulled it off.

"My mom teaches an English as a second language class on Wednesday nights." He said dryly.

"Ah. I see. Anyway, he got concerned about people at work figuring out we were getting close, so he suggested we cool it at work. The texts got a bit more flirty from there."

I took a second and looked around the coffee shop, making sure no one was listening in. It looked clear, so I continued.

"He came over and helped me paint my kitchen on a Saturday. It was going great and when we were done he got really flirty and we kissed for the first time. I didn't want more, but he did." I trailed off.

"What else happened?" He sounded tense, but calm. I could tell he was holding in his anger for my benefit.

"He cornered me and started coming on strong. I thought he was joking around at first, but he didn't relent. He got more and more aggressive and he kept insisting I wanted it, calling me a tease. Stuff like that."

I realized my hands were shaking so I let go of my drink and hid my hands under the table. I saw he was fidgeting from nervous energy too.

"When I tried to fight and scream, he dragged me into my room and gagged me. He threatened to break my arms if I fought him. And then he raped me." I stopped and stared at the coffee cup.

"Afterwards he acted like nothing happened other than casual sex between people who were dating or something. He kept saying I wanted it and then he just left." I felt sick to my stomach.

"My god. I knew he was sick, but to do that to a friend. What a fucking disgusting....." Devin trailed off, at a loss for strong enough words to describe Porter.

"At school he tried to act like everything was normal, but I refused to interact with him. He didn't try again after the first day. I haven't spoken to him since." I finished and now I wanted to run away from all of it.

I started to cry. I wiped away the tears and tried to calm down.

"Can I ask why you didn't report him? To the police or the school?" He was trying to be gentle, I could tell.

"They wouldn't have believed me. The way he set it up, the way it all happened, I could imagine the burden of proof would have been on me. As a male victim, a gay male victim, I didn't think I'd get justice."