scars

A soft moaning woke me from my peaceful sleep. It took me several minutes in the darkness to figure out what was going on. “Please…don’t, daddy.” I fumbled with one hand for a candle. I used my weight to move Otis while fishing out the lighter from my pocket. I tried to light the candle but Otis was struggling against my grasp. “I’ll be good….please…no!” I felt the entire front of my shirt was soaked. “Mama, please don’t. Please don’t burn me.”

Damn lighter won’t light. Otis’s voice was becoming hysterical. “Otis, easy. I’m here, easy now.” Finally the candle’s flame illuminated the room. Otis was soaked in sweat; his eyes were wide in an expression of terror. He grasped madly at his knee where his knife usually was. I found myself thankful that his knife has been taken away. His breath was jagged with congestion. “Otis, come on. You’re safe with me.” I had heard some of his nightmares from my bedroom but I had never witnessed one before. Usually it was Mama who calmed him down.

“R.J.? Everything okay?” Mama’s voice came from the other side of the door. I looked up to answer her when Otis caught me off-guard and punched me in the jaw.

“Ow! Goddamn it, I am trying to help you!” I struggled to regain a grip on the flailing albino. Otis hissed and growled through clenched teeth. Screeching at invisible foes. In his hallucinations he was fighting his mother and father and other people. What had they done to him when he was young? Otis threw his body around, the pain from his injuries just driving his fury on. “Otis, shhh….I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

Mama strode across the room. “He’s having a nightmare; you just have to keep him calm. Grandpa said they might get bad because of the drugs.” She stroked his soaking hair. He became calmer for a moment. “I’ll go get you some water, bring down his fever and it’ll probably help.” Mama’s soft words were helping me stay focused. It wasn’t until she left the room that I found myself growing hard in my jeans. There was something about dominating Otis that I just couldn’t take. Pinning down his hard physique, the sweat, listening to him pant in pain, I stopped as I felt the first pang of my cock against my jeans. Why did I not wear underwear today? I looked down again at his face. He was exhausted for a moment, a look of lucidity across his usually active features. I wanted him. Part of me wanted to hold him and to protect him from the past, to keep the memories from coming back. But part of me wanted to feel his nails ripping into my flesh. I wanted to explore his body. I would love for either him to fuck me or for me to tie him up and fuck the living…

“Okay, I’m back.” Mama’s voice startled me into a gasp. Thankfully Otis’s racking body was covering up the physical evidence of my mind’s delights. “Jus’ wring out the washcloth and cool his face. He’ll come around. If he doesn’t or keeps having recurring nightmares there is a jar of some medicine by the stove. Mix it into a tea and it’ll relax him for the night.”

“Okay.” I smiled at Mama. Otis was clam for another moment.

“There’s my boy.” She smiled back and kissed me gently. She wandered across the room and wordlessly exited.
I began looking at Otis hungrily. “Oh, R.J.?” I hadn’t heard the door shut.

Goddamn it, woman! Go away!!! “Yes, Mama?”

“Take it easy on Otis. He’s had a hard week.” What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did she know? How could she have known? Am I that transparent? Did she see how hard I was or was it the way I was looking at Otis? “Rufus Junior, are you listening to me?”

I shook myself out of my internal drilling. “Yes Mama.”

“Other than that, I hope you both have a fine time.” She giggled as she shut the door. I was frustrated and my cock was tearing at my jeans. I growled at her as she jaunted out the door. Otis began to struggle again. There was no way that I was going to be belted again by him. I gently laid him down and went to the kitchen.

I turned the kettle on and opened up the glass jar that held the herbal mixture. “Gotta drug your date?” Hugo quipped from the kitchen.

I sighed heavily shaking the dried powder into a cup. “No, he’s having a nightmare and I don’t feel like being punched again.” Actually Grandpa, I want to fuck the shit out of him but I love him too much. I…love him. Do I love him? Do I really? I found myself examining the intricate design etched into the glass. It was a graveyard. I wondered if Otis had designed this.

“R.J. you know I didn’t mean to hurt your feelins’, now.” Hugo actually looked concerned from his darkened corner. He was watching me from over the top of the television.

The kettle finally whistled after an eternity. “Yeah, I know.”

“However I am gonna hurt more than your feelings if you rough ‘im up enough to damage any of those stitches. Keep that in your head, you got me?”

“Yeah.” I poured the hot water into the cup and allowed the mixture to dissolve. I added some cool water from the faucet so he could drink the mixture all the sooner. I turned and headed up the stairs. I could hear Baby talking somewhere animatedly, probably to Dad. Poor guy.

I entered Otis’s room. His pale form was panting on the bed. I cooled his face with the washcloth. He moaned softly as I stroked his hair. “Shhh, I’m here.” I set everything up within easy reach as I took him back into my arms. Otis mumbled incoherently. “Come on, now. I need you to look at me.” I kept my voice calm and quiet.

Otis barely opened his eyes. “R.J.?” It was the first moment of lucidity he had since he came home.

“Yeah, it’s me. Come on and drink this.” I held the cup up for him to drink. Otis drank eagerly; I figured he was thirsty after not having anything since he came home. I remembered the pills Grandpa had set out after the surgery. I saved a little of the liquid and fed Otis the pills. It felt so right to hold him in my arms. He nuzzled against my chest and began to doze. I fed him the rest of the liquid and settled in with him. We were falling asleep when suddenly there was something erotic about his hot breath on my neck. I ran my hand down his body halting at his underwear. They had to go. I gently slid them off of him. My eyes widened when I saw the prize of the package. No wonder the girls screamed like they did. I wanted to clap my hand like a kid at Christmas as I looked over his member. It only heightened my jubilation when I noticed he was getting hard. I reached down and took his cock in my hand feeling the weight and thickness of it. Oh, happy birthday R.J.
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Now remember, good things cum to those who wait! Also I do not own any of the H1KC kids, only their naught little games in my own head. It’s going to get saucy, turn back now if you are offended.