Pretty street boy

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A/N - Hello again! The mystery continues as Nathan has to come to grips with what his reality really is and how he\'s to deal with it. There are lots of unanswered questions that I hope will become more clear in the future. I wonder if any readers know where he is yet. (A virtual cookie for the correct guess) ^_^ I\'m being a bit enigmatic in this story, but that\'s on purpose. ^___^ Thank you for continuing to read up to this point, I hope you will continue. ~Best Left Exposed


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There was a soft voice within that whispered quietly in my head. I didn\'t want to hear it. But I couldn\'t shut it completely out, either. My hand was gripping my cock firmly as I laid in the vast expanse of the bed. Nude in all my glory, skin exposed to the air that was neither too warm, nor too chill. Michael. I pulled on my cock wishing after Him. I wanted Him filling me deep from within. I\'d been celibate for months. The days and nights were a blur, but I figure it\'d been at least six months by then. Even though my body\'s desires were fulfilled by my own hand, I still felt an incompleteness that left me frustrated and yearning for more.


Michael, I knew, would never come to me. And even as He continued to rebuild the shattered remains of my life, I still hadn\'t thought to pursue that which I desired. Thinking was something so new to me that when a thought did happen to pop into my sodden brain, it felt much like getting an electrical shock right behind my eyes. Wanting something other than food and warmth was still an abstract for me. Existence only. But I found myself wanting something.... someone. Michael\'s warm embrace - flesh on flesh. Lips that I\'d been graced to feel only once upon my own, on them again. Hot and fierce with desire. I\'d never experienced that myself, but I\'d seen it often enough on the street. Seen it enough to want it from Him. Wondering what that soft, brief kiss would\'ve felt like if it could\'ve been turned into something with more fervor. I jerked two more times and spewed my pure essence out and over my smooth chest, laying there panting for breath before tumbling out of bed, heading toward the bathroom.


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The darkness of the sky was reflected back into my unfocused eyes as I sprawled out on the lawn. The warmth of the summer sun was still felt in the soft earth, padded by lush grass that felt like velvet. And the sounds of insects like a soft soothing symphony in my ears. There wasn\'t any stars at all that night. Clouds were thick over head, but without the city lights to reflect off them, it looked to be pure black. Eerie was a word most would have used to describe it, but I enjoyed the darkness. A perfect void other than the distant pinpoints of lights from the manor windows behind me. I hadn\'t bothered to dress, either. I couldn\'t tell you why I went about nude every night. I wouldn\'t dream of it, now, but then it seemed only natural. My body, though still slight, had filled out so that it was merely lean and not spectral and I took pleasure in it\'s suppleness.


I didn\'t hear Him approach. His footsteps padded by the thick grass. \"Why do you come out here every night?\" He spoke as He pooled down with supernatural grace to sit beside me. His eyes flitting over my body briefly without so much as a cocked eyebrow.


I still hated my voice with a slow burn, but used it more and more frequently in His presence, despite it and the pain. \"I like it,\" I said simply.


\"Why?\"


He always asked me, \"Why?\" I moved to lean on my elbow, facing Him in the darkness. He glowed with an ethereal light so that my night-adjusted eyes could see Him easily. I was beginning to tire of that question, finally, after months of it. \"Why do you always ask me \'Why\'?\" I muttered, my harsh voice cracking.


He smiled broadly. I would forever hold the vision of that smile in my mind. It wasn\'t one of His usual small, sad smiles. It was wide and reached His eyes and crinkled His entire face for the first time. It confused me. Why would my question bring such a reaction? It was that I began to question was all, but I didn\'t realize it at the time. My eyebrows furrowed. The sounds of chirring insects seemed to grow louder in my ears, my brain buzzing. He continued to look at me, waiting for an answer, not responding to mine.


\"Well?\"


\"It\'s nice.\"


\"What\'s nice about it?\"


\"I don\'t know!\" My voice raising a notch with frustration.


He nodded, smile never leaving His beautiful face. It wasn\'t so much my answers He sought, but more how I reacted to the questions. The questions forcing me to acknowledge things outside myself and Him. Forcing me to be rid of the stoicism that had ruled my life up until this point. I really wanted to scream with the frustration and if I would\'ve done so, I believe He might\'ve laughed in delight...


The echo of screams died slowly, swallowed up by the long, filthy alley I called home. If no one came to investigate the origin of such terrified sounds, it was only to be expected. My numbness to life was merely the result of my environment. I was 13 years old and a murderer, yet still I did nothing to stop the raping of my body. Pain that ripped through me every time I was violated meant nothing. I would live from it. Even when the perversity ran so deep that my attackers felt the need to mutilate my flesh. I still survived. I had finally passed out into the sweet oblivion of the void. My body a distant shell lying in a heap as my freed spirit soared the astral plains of dreaming. Pain was an illusion. Life was an illusion. And the blood that trickled from my disfigurement was astoundingly of large quantity. I should\'ve bled to death, by all accounts. I wondered why I should even be alive as I stared down at the mangled form that was my physical manifestation.


They had crushed my ball sack and cut out my budding manhood on the brink of maturation. I would forever be effeminized, never fully feeling the coursing of testosterone in my veins. Perhaps my impending manhood struck a cord in one of my many frequent \'visitors\' and the thought of my lithe frame filling out, all muscles and hair, repelled them to the point of doing this atrocity to my still developing body. If not for the mind shattering pain, I still wouldn\'t have cared. The blood that was flowing everywhere should\'ve killed me. Yet I still lived. Gasping great sobbing breaths as I bound myself up tightly in a primitive girdle, after coming back into my body again. And still never questioning why or declaring to the world how unfair it all was.


I did heal, slowly. Eventually being able to walk without the shuffling limp of pain. And my life, such as it was, went on, the torture of my emasculation forgotten in the haze of repressed memories. Never developing as a young man should; a finely sculpted wraith of a boy, captured forever in the sweet prime of adolescent beauty...


I sat up fully upright, my legs crossed exposing my flaccid dick and the remnants of my empty sack. I saw Him glance very quickly down and back up to my eyes. I know He\'d seen me nude before, but seeing it still didn\'t take away the shock of my mutilation. His lips pressed downward slightly, though He said nothing about it.


\"What do you think of this place?\" He asked.


\"I don\'t.\"


He snorted, not believing me and said so: \"I don\'t believe you. You want to be back where you were?\"


\"I like it here.\" I paused thinking. It hurt. \"No, not really.\" Another pause. He waited patiently, sensing I would continue. \"Though I do miss some things about it.\" I hinted at my unhealthy, masochistic desire to be used.


\"Hmm.\" Was all He said. My skin felt warm as it flushed with yet another new emotion. Anger. My body was tensed with it, my skin felt tight across my bones. And then I collapsed into the ground, burying my face in my arms as it dissipated just as quickly as it had come. \"Nathan. It\'s okay to feel such things.\" I felt His sympathy like an unwanted caress.


\"I don\'t want them. Any of them!\" My words muffled into the ground. \"I wish I were dead,\" I spoke flatly. Dead, as I should\'ve been numerous times.


\"And what if you were? What would your purpose have been?\"


I choked on the meat of His words. I didn\'t want them - the emotions coursing though me, unbidden. To this day, still don\'t want them, even as I embrace them and transmute them into something I can use as I seek. As for my purpose, it is still a point of confusion to my now sharpened mind, even after all this time. Why was I created for this? Why should anyone suffer as I had for it? The greater good. I know all about it and I sometimes sneer, but it is also the driving force behind everything I do. That and Him. His questions prodding me deeper and deeper into the master plan that was forced upon me, like my life on the street, against my will.


There on the lawn, in the depth of night\'s embrace, my mind leaped forward. \"If I were dead, what need of these feelings that keep clawing and rending through my brain? My purpose is invalid, like a manufacturer\'s error.\" I coughed hard from talking so much at once.


He reached forward to pull me back upright and grab my hands, small in His large ones. \"Good.\" His eyes were twinkling. \"But you are not quite dead and your purpose is unfulfilled. Why do you suppose you are here?\"


Something about the way He said it made shivers run over my skin. Not even the breath of a summer\'s night could warm me. The top of my scalp prickled with something akin to dread. \"Not quite dead?\" I shifted, feeling my legs pressing into the ground. \"I feel alive.\"


\"Do you?\" He arched an eyebrow. \"On the streets, did you feel such a thing? What evidence did you have that expressed life within you?\"


\"Pain.\"


\"Does feeling pain make you alive?\"


\"Yes. No. I guess not. Was I dead and that was hell?\"


He laughed kindly. \"No, you weren\'t dead in the way you think. What about now? What would make you believe you were not dead here?\"


\"Aren\'t I, then? You said that I was.\"


\"Only if you believe it is so. Do you wish to be alive, then? Moments ago, you wished for death and now having it, do not wish it anymore? What about this place makes being alive desirable again?\"


I jerked my hands from His and pounded my legs in frustration. He was speaking in riddles that only He had the answers to. I didn\'t realize that it was I who held the answers until much, much later. \"You\'re twisting words around to confuse me!\" I accused. \"Why would I stay here?! I don\'t give a shit about anything! Nothing!\" I was shouting and my stripped voice sputtered into another coughing fit. He sat facing me in grim silence as I composed myself. My face had fallen into a deadpan. \"It\'s you. The reason I want to live and want to die, is you. Does that make you happy? To force a confession from me, *Father* Michael?\" I asked sarcastically.


He was unfazed by my biting mockery of our relationship. \"Nathan, I\'m not here to coerce you into saying anything you don\'t want to say.\" He searched my face intently. \"Is that the only reason you wish to live? There isn\'t anything else?\" I shook my head barely perceptively. \"Perhaps I should leave for awhile, then.\" Voice tinged with regret. He reached to out to touch my hair, the fine strands flowing through His long, graceful fingers like liquid pitch.


The prick of tears stung my eyes. Like a slap that reverberated down through my soul. The root of all my suppressed emotion. Of my disregard for life. My life had been so much refuse dumped out onto the cesspool of society. No one cared for me, so I did not care in return. Those pathways along my heart had been cauterized. Seared until there was nothing. \"Don\'t...\" I stammered the words that were choking me, \"don\'t abandon me. Or just kill me and be done with it.\" The tears were coming freely. \"Why was I brought here? To die? Or... or am I already dead?\" I had crawled into His opened arms. Holding to Him tightly like one adrift holds to a log for life. Even when fingers are numbed beyond feeling, they keep their hold in desperation.


\"Live if you wish it. Feel the life all around you and live. It is ultimately your own choice, Nathan.\" His voice was cracking with strained emotion. I could sense the anguish in Him as well as my own. \"But you must take it for yourself. No one can do this for you.\" He was holding me just as tightly, clothing pressed just this side of uncomfortable into my bare flesh. Being close to Him, I didn\'t care.

\"I don\'t know if I can,\" I sobbed into His shirt as He rocked me gently like a baby, fingers sliding rhythmically through my hair, careful to not touch me in any way that could be read as seductive, though I felt His ardor keenly.

It would\'ve been easy to consummate my desire for Him at that point of weakness for both of us. He would\'ve acquiesced to any move I would\'ve made, I\'m sure. His own desire for me apparent in His touches, soft and undemanding. But the darkness of the night and the harsh words, hard to swallow, had left me troubled. Losing Him would\'ve killed me just as surely as a knife to the gut and I did not want to further burden Him, right then, with any more of my dysfunctional feelings, not understanding that was His wish. All that had been buried under the hard shell of apathy, finally bursting open in a rush like water behind a collapsed dam. I was beginning to think for myself and express those thoughts and feelings with some measure of normalcy, if not understanding. The long road ahead; my journey had begun in earnest.


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Thank you again for reading! I much appreciate it! Our journey together is far from over, but I will have patience with the story and not force my will upon the flesh of it as it fills out. Thank you, too, to those who suggested titles... I\'m still mulling it over. ^_^


A small note - before anyone emails me or posts a review about eunichs not being able to have sex or ejaculate... I did do my research and they can. ~_^


One more thing.... don\'t forget to review! ^_^ ~BLE
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