Rite of Passage Ch.02

Jamie awoke in pain. A lancing, throbbing pain that seemed to echo through every inch of his mind body and soul. A loud piercing beeping which seared into his mind like a hot poker spearing his mind and resonating throughout his whole body. He forced his eyes to open a fraction and the dull rays of scarce light stretching through his room caused the pain to double as they burned into him.

He let out a low,despairing groan and reached his hand out for his smartphone, besides his bed, where he had left it the night before. His hand was uncoordinated, slapping around to find it and after fumbling with it for a few seconds, he pressed the button on the side and cut short his morning alarm before flopping back onto his face and letting out another, more mournful groan as he pulled his head under his pillow, trying to arrange his thoughts now. The beast of noise and light had been slain. His head hurt. Why? Had he been drinking? His console was out, why? Yes.. He had gotten drunk and played a video game.. With.. With Caitlyn? That made sense. But his ass, why did his ass hurt?.. Why would?..

He sat up sharply and looked around him, ignoring the explosion of blossoming, sudden pain in his head as he inspected his immediate surroundings. He was alone. No Caitlyn. He felt himself relax again at that realisation, as he looked around his room through squinted, blinking eyes.

Sitting beside him on his bedside table was a tall glass of water and a few tablets. There was no note but he recognised the tablets as being aspirin. He took the tablets with a mouthful of water, pausing to breathe a little heavy, a wave of nausea sweeping through him at the pain and effort the moving had exerted on him and took a few more mouthfuls of the water before laying back onto his bed, slow and careful, staring at the ceiling as he tried to piece together fragments of the previous night.

His ass was burning, a pain he’d never felt before, a pain he didn’t understand. His mind was screaming at him, trying to warn him what it was, but he refused to believe the truth his mind was showing him. That couldn’t have happened. Could it?..

He winced a little and felt uncomfortable in his thoughts, absently he reached a hand down. His boxers weren’t there, they were down around his knees. He had his duvet, but he cast that aside, leaning up and looking down at himself. His cock was soft but coated in dry cum, he frowned as he looked at himself, boxers half off, covered in his own sticky seed. There was a distinctive stain beside him too. Like he had jerked off and came into the bed. Was that it? Had it all been a wet dream of his? That didn’t account for the pain he felt but it was less of a bitter pill to swallow.

He hesitated a little and thought about checking his ass, but no. He wouldn’t, he was afraid of what he might find. He lay back down on his side, to relieve the pain from his ass and closed his eyes. What if he had.. What should he.. Why would… Sleep took him from his unanswered questions and he dozed back off into a troubled sleep.

When he next awoke his head wasn’t exactly clear, but it was better for the water, aspirin and sleep. He would be tender, but not incapacitated. He sat up and groaned a little, feeling a tenderness in his ass and weirdly at his throat. Still, it didn’t bother him. It hadn’t been real.

He sighed and swung his legs out of bed and stood on wobbly feet, pulling his boxers back up into place and running a hand through his sandy blonde hair as he gathered up the half full glass of water and drained it, rolling the glass around hesitantly in his hand as he looked towards his bedroom door.

Today was his birthday, he was eighteen today. That should’ve made him feel like a man but he just couldn’t muster that feeling. He felt more a child in need of reassurance than he had in years.

He set the glass down on his side table with a slight clunk and picked up his phone again, standing beside his bed as he unlocked it, checking the time.

One in the afternoon? He’d slept half the day away! He sighed some. “Some birthday..” he muttered to himself and set his phone down, locking it and making for the bathroom.

After brushing his teeth and using the facilities he flipped the shower on and got a towel together, stripping out of his boxers and stepping into the heat of the shower, closing his eyes and letting the hot water stream across his body, washing away his tiredness and the majority of his aches.

He glanced to the side as the water washed over him, cleansing him and noticed a small compact makeup mirror beside the sink, just inside of his arms reach.

He couldn’t, what would he see? He swallowed. His hand reaching out, water trickling down his fair unblemished skin as he picked up the mirror, pulling it into the shower and looking at it.

He held in his hand pandora’s mirror. If he opened it up he would unleash its contents into his mind. Or maybe it was Schrodinger’s mirror. Until he looked into it, he lived in a state in which last night’s events had both happened and not happened.

He opened the mirror and brought it up to look at himself. Seeing his soft blue eyes, his familiar and all too feminine face. And to his absolute horror, bruises on his neck in the shape of a hand. It was real. It had all been real. He turned around, all but throwing the compact mirror back down by the sink, in denial about what he had seen.

He froze, the mirror skittering around the bowl of the sink before it came to settle. In the bathroom doorway stood his sister. He hadn’t even seen or heard her open the door. But she watched him now, smirking, her expression dark. Caitlyn was athletic by nature, not bulging with muscle but toned and strong, built for a purpose. He knew this, knew it with far too much detail in fact. Before him in all her glory, the purpose she was built for was becoming more and more obvious, transforming him into her plaything.

His eyes trailed down her body, from her beautiful face, across her buxom chest and flat toned abs to her cock. Terrifying in its familiarity to him, it stood proudly out in front of her, erect and pressed forward slightly as if it was leading her to him, a dousing cock.

“Admiring my handy work?” She asked softly, closing the bathroom door behind her and smirking as she locked the door, something he had omitted doing.

“Caitlyn… “ he said her name in a tiny, terrified voice. He didn’t know what to say. He was overwhelmed with the sudden, undeniable truths of the night before.

She could see the terror and anxiety plain as day on his face and in his voice, her eyes drinking in the sight of his nude, glistening form. He was so beautiful, so svelte. He would fit her needs so nicely.

“You’re going to bend over for me right? Offer yourself to me like the good little girl you are?” She teased as she sauntered casually towards him. Watching eagerly as he backed himself into the corner of the shower.

She smirked and stepped inside with him, feeling the water wash over her.