My Journey - Book 3: Bows

Copyright© 2016 by Xalir

Coming of Age Sex Story: Prologue - In the wake of Thanksgiving weekend, Matt's family learns to cope with the new reality as they clean up and face the aftermath of Exile. Follow Matt's road to recovery as they all wonder what comes next and dread the answer. Christmas is coming and each of them separately wonder whether it will be a time of celebration or mourning.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Celebrity   Crime   School   Tear Jerker   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Light Bond   Rough   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   White Male   Hispanic Female   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   First   Petting   Pregnancy   Safe Sex   Squirting   Slow  

I slowly wake up and realize the day is mostly gone. I blink away my fatigue and look around. Mr. Rat is watching me curiously from near the ladder to the loft. “Yeah,” I agree. “Kind of a shitty way to kick off Thanksgiving weekend, wasn’t it?”

He squeaks and fidgets a little as if in agreement. I look down at myself and sigh. My shirt is covered in droplets of blood and I grimace. “I liked this shirt,” I complained. I sighed dramatically and shrugged. Nothing to do about it now, is there? I twist my head and look down at where my wrist is tied by the rough rope. I can see it a little better with the daylight filtering through the gaps between the boards on the walls. I’ve managed to rub my wrists raw and nod.

“Good,” I tell my friend. “They’ll expect that I tried to get free,” I explain since he seems curious about my approval of that injury. I fix him with a shrewd look and nod. “I think it’s time we gave you a name,” I tell him. “What do you think?” That meets with an agreeable squeak or what I assume is agreeable.

“Let’s see...” I muse, taking in his black eyes and brown fur. “Milton?”

No response.

“Blake?” Nothing. “Shapiro?” Nadda. “Buck?” Nope. “Irwin?” Not acceptable. “Unless ... Tiffany?”


“I apologize, Tiffany,” I say solemnly. “I thank you for watching out for me and keeping me company, even though I have grievously misjudged you.”

She approaches close enough to rest her front paws on my sneaker and look up at me, sniffing the air nervously. I chuckle. “Victoria was right,” I tell her. “I really can’t go anywhere without meeting a pretty girl.”

Tiffany must like that statement, because she scurries up the outside of my jeans and parks in my lap as we chat.

“So you see,” I tell her while I wait for it to get dark, “last night’s gentle beating wasn’t exactly my first rodeo. It looks like I’m sticking around for at least one more night though. How’d you like to come with me when I leave here. You’ve been an absolute peach of a companion, listening to me ramble on and there’s so much more to tell if you’re interested.”

She squeaks at me and frisks in a circle nervously. I smile and think she seems like a clever little girl. Probably hasn’t seen people her whole life if the barn had been abandoned this long. I figure she’s probably curious about people and maybe likes the sound of my voice a little.

I look up and realize it’s almost completely dark and I can see headlights approaching. They’re early tonight. That’s not good. That means they’re eager. I wonder if my plan was ready to put into motion, but decide that it probably isn’t. Maybe if I hadn’t fallen asleep, but way too late to change that now.

I look down at my roommate and bite my lip a little. “Tiffany,” I say softly, getting her attention. “Hide! Now!”

I swear she looks at me like she wants to argue, but then she ducks her head and scampers off to parts unknown while car doors slam outside. Three doors this time. That’s not good.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what’s about to happen. My biggest ally so far has been a total lack of imagination from my captors. ‘God help me if they discover the internet, ‘ I think dryly.

I close my eyes and immerse myself in some of the good memories from that time while I distance myself from what my body is feeling and feign sleep for the moment. They’re talking outside and I can tell they’re frustrated with last night. The third voice isn’t a voice I recognize. That makes me wonder who it might be.

Interlude 3 »