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Brandon Long's Short Stories

By Brandon Kenjiro Long All Rights Reserved ©

Other

Rigged

Lips were sealed. Eyes were closed. Their tongues were exposed for all to see as they wrestled and fought against each other's. They almost pulled off the thought that they were a true, happy, lustful, common teenage couple. Of course, I knew better. Even if his silly lackeys couldn't catch onto the truth, I did. Oh, I could see the hints of absolute disgust as he made out with that bimbo who wore her tank top a bit too tight just for him. If only she knew it would have no effect – not on him. It's not her fault he doesn't love her, though. He doesn't even love women. That moron loves me.

I remember how it started like it was yesterday. I was sitting there, alone, not two years ago from the very day I saw myself stuck there, watching him suck face with her. It happened on the same spot that he and his mask were occupying, as well. He simply heard I was gay, came up to me, and decided we'd have a little chat... Well, I expected my face to be broken and bloody by the time it was over, but it wasn't my face that got beat.

We kept meeting up for more as time passed. And as we continued on, we mutually discovered more about one another, leading these meet-ups to arise something a bit more than either of us had bargained for. I love him. As soon as I told him thus, he reacted nearly exactly as I had expected. He was on the verge of breaking as he freaked out. But he never tried to discredit this, however. Not after a full year had already passed since it began. A year ago from the day he sat in our spot with his slut, he told me he loved me back. Of course, I can't help but wonder if she'd ever gone through this type of thing with my closeted jackass. Had she said he loved him? Had he over-reacted? Had he said it back..?

No. Of course, he didn't! I know that imbecile loves me. He does. I hope nobody takes me for some blind fool. I'm not. He's said before that he would try harder to come out for me... Funny. I think he said that a day prior to our anniversary. The same anniversary where we were accompanied by his buddies... And her.

I'm truly unsure as to why I stay, to be frank. I suppose you could say I'm caught in nothing less than my own little internal struggle. On one hand, I feel terrible personally from all this. Why won't he just come out for me? Why does he force himself to sit through these make-out sessions with her? Am I not good enough? Am I not enough for him to come out? Am I just.. some stupid toy on the sidelines to him?

A sly grin peeled its way across my lips as they finally pulled away. On the other hand, I feel all too powerful. She doesn't even know the truth. Even if I am his little toy, I'm fully aware that I'm the only one he fools around with, whether it be out of love or simple lust. No tight-skirt, small tank-top bimbo is going to get a rise out of his jackhammer. Your grounds aren't going to be tampered with. Mine reserve that right. Even if I'm nothing emotionally to him, I'm all he has sexually. I have complete and utter control over him. The last girl who dated him while he and I were together would know. She still doesn't understand why he broke up with her. And all I had to do was hold out! Ha!

It's a disturbing, yet welcome feeling to have this much control over a guy. I understand why some girls out there choose to manipulate men with this. It just feels so.. enriching to be able to control what's supposed to be such a masculine and commanding creature by denying him his pleasure.

As he lay there, avoiding gazing at me to avoid suspicion, my eyes never left the ditz lying in his arms in my spot beside him. I felt no contempt for her, however. Only amusement. Whether or not she loves him, she's nothing in this new little game of mine. Nothing but a useless pawn to knock out of the way so I can get to the king. And this poor sod surrounds himself with those silly pawns. Dumb pawns, mainly. It's like he doesn't even care that I win!

I glance left. Still, he persists on staring up as his buddies watch him and his “girlfriend” lay there. She closes her eyes and tries to snuggle up to his side, getting no reaction at all out of him. Silly girl... I almost pity your denseness. She thinks she's winning this secret game of ours.

Sweetie... This game was rigged from the start.


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1. Rigged
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