This story took a long time- years- to decide if I wanted to add in or not. It's a story that always has and forver will haunt me since it happened. Even out of all those days when we were trapped up in the attic, I think this was still singlehandedly the worst day of my life. I want to cry, throw up, hurl myself out of a window every time I think about it. It's an incredibly difficult occurance to bring up to anyone, which is why I didn't even tell Cathy, my own sister about it until nearly a year after it happened. I was filled with fear for what would happen to me if anyone found out. Fear that it was my fault and I had done evil, too. Fear that Cathy wouldn't believe me, despite how close we were. Of course, now I know that all of those fears were silly. But they did not feel silly when it was actually going on. I decided I would add this in, because it is important for people to know about the seriousness of this issue. I want other men and women who have gone through the same experiences to se this and know that they're not alone. So, here is a never-before-told story of the very last encounter Julian Marquet and I had leading up to his death.
It all started when I was visiting Cathy and Julian in New York, staying with the two of them in their small apartment for the weekend. I had just arrived and Cathy had left to pick up Carrie, who would also be visiting, from the airport. Much to my despair, I was left alone in the aparment with Julian, whom Cathy knew how much I resented.
I was standing in the living room when he emerged from the bedroom, wearing only a pair of gray boxer-briefs. I tried to ignore him, thinking he was just trying to show off his body. But then, he came over and started placing his hands on my arms and shoulders, then running his thumbs across my chest. I told him he was crazy and tried to walk away, but by then it was too late.
I couldn't escape. Julian had me pinned to the wall. My arms were held above my head and his strong dancer's legs held mine tightly in place. The dark, hungry gleam in his eyes told me I wasn't going anywhere.
Throatily, I tried to reason with him. "Julian... You best get away from me. How do you think this would make Cathy feel?"
He laughed bitterly, digging his fingers deeper into my wrists. "Come on, Chris. We're just having fun, right buddy?" He leaned in to plant several unwanted kisses, right on my quivering mouth. "And she doesn't... Have... To know."
"Stop," I grunted, but he didn't listen. He lowered his mouth from my lips to my jawline, closing his moist lips around my skin and sucking on it. My eyes watered and my mind raced as I tried to think straight, but nothing would fully process. I tried to resist when Julian grabbed the hem of my shirt and began to pull it up, but I seemed to be weakened by his forcefulness. Somehow, he got the whole shirt over my head and strewn on the floor below us.
"Julian, you need to stop. This isn't funny anymore," I cried, still attempting to get away from him. Now, his fingers were aggresively pinching and pulling at my nipples, making them pop out. His breath was hot and unwelcome on my chest as he fumbled with my belt. I shuddered as he swiped my pants right off, exposing some skin to the cool, dry air. Goosebumps promptly appeared on my thighs and hips.
He laughed. "Cold?" he asked, now not even sounding human at all. He sounded like a savage animal, ready to pounce on his prey. "Don't worry, Christopher Doll. I'll make you nice and warm."
I winced at the way he used my nickname, which only Cathy was supposed to call me. His mocking voice jabbed me in the heart, and it hurt so much I barely had time to react to him placing his hand directly on my crotch. I gasped sharply, every fragment of my body suddenly feeling violated by his touch. I swung my knee up to kick him, but he swiftly dodged my leg and shoved me back up agaisnt the wall.
As I stood there, helpless beneath his strengthening grip, he pressed his pelvis right into mine, crushing me agaisnt the wall. Right away, I could feel his erection from within his breifs, rubbing agaisnt the inside of my thigh. I blanched, squeezing my eyes shut as he continued palming me through my underwear. Eventually, he pulled back the waisband of my boxers, about to reach inside.
I let out a breathless sigh, which almost came out a sob. "Julian, please. I don't want you to do this."
"Oh yeah?" he teased, then looked down into my underwear. "Your dick is telling me otherwise."
Sure enough, I had a growing erection due to the physical contact with him. I blushed a deep shade of crimson, humiliated that my body had betrayed me in a situation like this. Why, of all people, had I gotten hard for him? I didn't want this. I felt gross for my body actually reacting to it!
Julian shoved my underwear off, then his own. I blinked back the hot tears that threatened to spill. Too weak to even fight back anymore, I just stood there, letting him stroke up and down my length, his free hand touching himself as well. I was disgusted with myself for not stopping him anymore. Though I was erect, it did not feel good. It didn't feel bad, either. I barely felt anything as he ground up agaisnt me, forcing our male sexes to rub together. He nibbled on my ear and I felt his stubble scratch my cheek.
Sliding his hands back up to my wrists, he pulled me away from the wall and led me to the brown suede couch on the other side of the room. He sat down and yanked me down with him. Now, I was sititng beside him awkwardly, my hands still in his. He was staring up at me with contempt deep in his eyes, regarding me and sensing my fear. I swallowed hard and stared down at the floor, ashamed of myself. So, so ashamed. Why wasn't I getting up and leaving when I had the chance? I could make a run for it, call the police, put my clothes back on and leave the house. But instead, I let him grab my waist and slide me over to him until I was suddenly in his lap.
"No," I whispered tightly, knowing exactly what he wanted. Julian smiled at me and carressed a hand across my clenched jaw. His fingers felt so, so forgein as they massaged my face. They felt cold, despite how hot they really were.
"Don't be scared, Christopher. I know you are. You don't have to be." He purred on as I drifted further and further from reality. "I'll be gentle, and loving. I want this to be pleasurable for you, too."
I didn't have a response. My body flinched away slightly, but he brought me back to where I was before. I didn't want him to do this to me. I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to drop dead! Yet, I didn't have the strength to stop him anymore. He brought his hands back to my sex and squeezed it tightly. Finally, I really felt it, whimpering in response. My face burned with shame because I realized it felt good. Seeing my reaction, he did it again, harder. I grunted, shutting my eyes and wishing I was anywhere but there with him in that moment. What he was doing felt so good. So terribly, horribly, sinfully, wonderfully wrong.
I shook, trembled in the embrace of the strong man who was holding me captive in his lap. There he had me, holding me agaisnt him as he continued to violate my naked body. Though I was seventeen, I felt like a little boy again. So incredibly helpless, trapped in the arms of my abuser. He lifted me up so I was standing, knees apart and straddling his legs. I shook my head, not wanting at all what he had in mind. My utter disgust still took over the pleasure I felt, but it wasn't enough to help me fight back. Instead, I just stared at him with desperate, pleading eyes. This did nothing but turn him on even more.
"I'm not going in dry," he stated, then spit into his hand. I tried not to cry as he touched my behind, sliding a finger in, then another. I barely even felt it. He looked at me and for the first time, I saw compassion in his eyes rather than just animal-like lust. "It shouldn't hurt too much."
But when he gripped my waist and brought me down onto him, I realized how wrong he was. At first I only felt pressure, but as soon as the tip passed my sphincter, a sharp pain jabbed me on the inside. For the first time, I cried out loudly. The tears that had been in my eyes finally spilled over and dropped onto Julian's chest as I sat on him. Nothing felt good anymore. All I felt was pain and terror.
Julian tilted his head back, sighing like he was in seventh heaven. "I've been waiting so long for us to do this, Chris. Too long."
And with that, he lifted me up and thrusted me back down, this time all the way. I wailed, my voice suddenly sounding as high and meek as it was when I was fourteen, just a young boy. The pain I felt in my lower abdomen was unbearable, indescribable. I sucked in a shaky breath, bracing myself for another thrust. With each movement, each tiny motion, I yelped like a wounded child. Julian had forgotten all about his vow to be gentle- he was pressing himself into me with great force, worsening the sensation. I felt like I was about to throw up, especially when I noticed the blood seeping onto his thighs below me.
"J- Julian, stop, please!" I sputtered, my vision blurred by pools of frightful tears. "It hurts too much. I don't want to do this, I don't-"
But he cut me off by concealing my mouth with a clammy hand, gazing into my eyes. "Just hold on, Christopher. With each thrust, the pain fades and eventually becomes pleasure. Just hold on."
I shook my head no, sobbing as I stared at him with scared eyes. No, I didn't want this. Not at all. I wanted to get off his lap, but his strong hands held me there, forcing his length all the way up my bottom. I gave in, lying limp in his arms as he had his way with me. Soon enough, it didn't hurt anymore. The pressure inside of me nearly started to feel good. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let myself feel any sort of pleasure from this. But as Julian went faster and faster, it became incredibly difficult for me to resist.
"See? I told you it would feel good," he grunted, jabbing his pelvis up into me. "You're gonna come, aren't you?"
I didn't respond. The feeling was so hard to describe. It was still pain, but a different kind of pain. A pain that you somehow wanted to feel. I dug my nails into his back, trying so hard not to fall over the edge I could feel I was nearing. I panted heavily, pressing my forehead tight against his. Every inch of my body was vibrating deep down. Vibrating with pain, pleasure, shame and guilt. That's when I gave in and kissed Julian deeply, interwining our tongues as a tidal wave of orgasmic spasms hit me. Moments later, Julian climaxed, too, right inside of me. The two of us sat there, with me on his lap, both of us shaking and hanging onto one another for dear life. No one there but the two of us and that old brown couch.
Later, I lay in Julian's bed, wearing only boxers, which had unfortunately seen the nasty aftermath of the encounter we had. Julian went to take a shower, and I was left staring up at the beige ceiling, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
Was I evil? Was I evil for letting it happen, even though I didn't even want it to? For engaging in man on man conduct, which had always been installed in my brain as a child to be unnatural? For letting him cheat on his wife, let alone my beloved sister? I was definitely going to hell, now. And the worst part was I'd be stuck there with him!
In Julian strode, his body fully naked and glistening with moisture from his shower. I refused to look him in the eye. I felt humiliation more than anything. Humiliation from the way I had finally submitted to his needs, the way I had just stopped resisting. I could tell that had made him even more desperate to force himself on me, inflicting fear as well as pain and pleasure. He loomed over me, silently watching as I turned on my side and curled into the fetal posistion, not wanting anything to do with him.
I heard faint footsteps from the other side of the room, so I figured he'd left. I was wrong. Instead, he climbed into the bed and was now wrapping his strong arms around me from behind. I shivered, hating him, hating myself, hating everything that had led up to this moment. I didn't want to feel his skin on mine anymore. I'd have rather crawled into a hole and died.
"You smell so good," he hissed in my ear. Now he was forking his fingers through my hair, carressing my collarbone with his lips. Suddenly, I felt him grow firm as he hugged me. I was now hyper-aware that the only thing separating us down there was my boxers, which wasn't much.
His hands reached for the waistband of my underwear once again. I tried to scoot away from him, but he held me firmly in place. Without even bothering to pull the boxers off, he yanked until it ripped in two, then whipped the piece of fabric onto the floor. Before I had time to react, he promptly shoved me onto my stomach.
"No," I whispered, already feeling the tears come back as he moved on top of me. "Not again, please."
Julian didn't hesitate. Gripping my waist, he held me in front of him. By now, I was crying again, too hard to get any more protesting words out. The pads of his fingers pressed so hard into my hips, I thought he would break my pelvis.
I screamed the most agonizing scream as he entered me. The pain was worse than before as he drove himself into me, showing no mercy.
There, on that bed, Julian took me for the second time that day. This time, he pulled out before climaxing, covering my lower back with his seed. Against my will, I eventually gave in once more and ended up coming on the mattress below me. He planted a kiss on my cheek before getting up and leaving me alone on the soiled bed.
"Just some good ole' fun, right Chris?" he smiled, and I began to cry again as he left the room. Now, I knew things would never be the same.