Confession
Helmut followed her out carrying a couple of serving bowls filled with steaming hot food, and after placing them on the table, he sat down sullenly, resolutely not making eye contact with any of us. Miss McFierceson motioned for us to join them at the table and proceeded to describe the delicacies she had prepared for our enjoyment. “And even though I wasn't expecting you, sweetie,” she chirped in my direction, “I'm so glad you showed up. I think it's for the best. Now, Pass me your plates everyone. I'll play mother!”
She heaped generous portions on each of our plates and we handed them around until we each sat behind a mountain of food. She made sure to keep the conversation going, despite the fact that Helmut wasn't participating. Not only was he not talking, he wasn't eating either. Finally Kevin had had enough of the pretense of normality, and blurted out, “I don't care about what Old Mr. Black did on his trip to Canada. What the hell's going on?”
“Language, young man!” Miss McFierceson chided.
Ignoring her, he turned to his father and pleaded, “Dad?”
Helmut didn't reply. He didn't even look up. He just turned away and closed his eyes, trying his best to just become invisible.
After a long silence, Miss McFierceson placed her hand on Helmut's and gently said, “It has to come from you.”
He withdrew his hand and sat in silence for a moment, seeming to screw his courage up before finally turning to his son. “I'm not the asshole you think I am,” he said with a weak smile, obviously trying to interject some humor into what was clearly a serious subject.
“I know, dad...” Kevin replied, concerned.
“No,” Helmut stopped him. “That's just it. I know you get it, that it's mostly an act. But when I start...no.” He stopped, and whispered to himself, “No excuses.” After taking a deep breath, he sat up straight and faced us all. “Hi, my name is Helmut, and I am a rapist.”
The silence was palpable. Now it was Kevin's turn to try to diffuse the tension. “Good one dad,” he said with a nervous laugh. “What are you playing at?”
“Miss McFierceson again gently laid a hand on Helmut's and offered, “Alcoholic is fine, dear. I wouldn't go so far as to say rapist. It was the alcohol, after all...”
“No,” he insisted. “It was me. It was my twisted imagination, My idea. My fault.” He seemed close to tears as he whispered, “My responsibility.”
“And I have forgiven you, long ago,” she soothed.
“But that doesn't change who I am, what I am capable of.” he said with a level of despair I had never seen in him before. “It just makes you feel better about it.”
“Well fuck you too,” she replied, half joking and half serious. “I have forgiven you, whether you believe it or not.”
As the first tear fell, he said, “I know,” then whispered, “I just wish...” but he couldn't finish.
Kevin hadn't taken his eyes off Helmut since this began. “I don't understand,” he muttered to himself. Then a bit louder, “Dad?”
Helmut turned to him and managed, “I love you, son. But that's not always enough. I loved...” turning to Miss McFierceson, he continued softer, “I love...” He suddenly stood up. “I've lost my appetite,” he said with purpose, and before anyone could respond, he strode from the room, saying, “I can't do this. You tell him.”
In the silence that followed, we heard his truck door slam and the engine rev up as he drove off. Kevin didn't know what to make of his father's confession. He looked to Miss McFierceson and pleaded, “He's not a rapist. Right?” then with a growing twinge of panic, “He can't be. Not him too.”
She thought before replying. “Well, yes and no.”
“Either he forced someone or he didn't.” Kevin said angrily. “Which is it?”
Miss McFierceson looked to me for support, but I was as anxious to hear her answer as he was.
“He did not have consent for what he did, so, yes, he did use force,” she admitted, and immediately followed up with, “But it was more complex than that.”
“Was it you?” Kevin asked bluntly. “Did he rape you?”
She swallowed before answering, “No. He didn't rape me,” she said, putting the emphasis on 'He'. Kevin seemed to relax a bit until she quietly added, “But the others did.”
Kevin and I sat dumbfounded. Miss M. had never even hinted at anything like this. After a long uncomfortable silence, I prodded, “Phil, that's going to need a little elaboration.”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Right,” she agreed grudgingly. “Okay. Umm...” She searched for words. “Well, you know how Helmut is, always on the prowl, anything but vanilla. What you may not realize is that we were a matched set. I could deal with his kinks because I had a few of my own as well. I won't go into too much detail, but one thing we both shared was a fondness for BDS&M. In this we were pretty much equals. We generally took turns wielding the whip, as it were, and we both loved being tied up and used. But this was usually a private arrangement, just between the two of us. Of course, we always had a safe word, or signal if we were using a gag, and we knew each other's limits and respected them. On rare occasions we would invite someone to join in, but it was always a mutual decision, and the visitor was always informed of hard and soft boundaries, and just how far they could go.
“One night, we had decided that I would be bound, and to spice things up a bit, Helmut would go out and bring in a stranger, someone I didn't know. We agreed that he would be allowed to fuck me as long as he used a condom, and I would be blindfolded the whole time.” She paused and asked, “So far, so good? Are you with me?”
We both nodded, eager to hear the rest of the tale.
“Anyways, we decided to use the garage instead of the playroom in the basement, just to change things up. Before he left, he bent me over the little ass fucking frame he had built, tied me down, and blindfolded me. Half of the fun was the anticipation, wondering how long it would be before some stranger would show up and shove his dick up my ass.
“I expected it wouldn't be long, just an hour or so, but it took forever. I couldn't see my watch or a clock, but in the quiet of the evening I heard the grandfather's clock next door ring at least three times before anything happened. I remember thinking, 'this better be good after such a long wait,' When I finally heard the door creak open, and the sound of footsteps. It sounded like just one person and I assumed it was Helmut returned empty handed.
“ 'It's about time!' I chided, then added more softly, 'No luck?' Without warning a rough hand shoved some sort of fabric into my mouth and held it there as they ran their other hand along my exposed ass. I struggled a bit, but not much, still assuming it was Helmut playing some sort of game.
“Still he didn't speak, as he continued to play with my ass. But then I heard another set of footsteps approaching, and the door open a little wider. “This must be the place,” a strange voice chuckled as he drew closer. “Have you fucked him yet?” the second voice asked as I felt his hands join the other one on my ass.
“ 'Not yet, but I'm about to.' The voice was not Helmut's, but another stranger's. I was shocked, and began to struggle in earnest. 'Nice,' the first man said, gripping his hand tighter over my mouth. 'Looks like things are going to get lively.'
“I heard voices and laughter in the distance, as a small group of men seemed to be approaching the garage. Suddenly their chatter filled the garage, and just as suddenly a finger found its way into my ass. “How's that? The first man hissed in my ear. 'Still seems tight, but don't worry, after ten or twelve of us have had a go, you'll loosen up.' His crude laugh mixed with the whiskey on his breath as he continued, 'Besides, cum makes great lube, but I guess until I full you up, we'll just have to settle for some spit'.
“In the chatter I heard someone ask 'Where's the duct tape?' and to my surprise I heard Helmut give a slurred response. Soon the gag was firmly taped on and my assailant was free to use both hands as he rammed his dick into me.
“It didn't take him long, and soon another had taken his place, then another. I lost count quickly. The garage was quickly coming to smell like a distillery, and every now and then I could hear Helmut's laugh or some fragment of a his conversation. He seemed to be keeping his distance from me, although once I did hear him bragging about how big my dick was, and almost immediately, I was untied from the frame and flipped over onto my back so that the crowd could admire it.
“I was then tied spread eagle to various posts within the garage, so that they could get in a little cock and ball torture while they continued to take turns fucking me. One guy in particular seemed to love squeezing my balls, and didn't seem to want to let them go. Various guys tried stroking me and sucking me, but there was no way I was going to cum. This was not the evening I had signed up for.
“As my anger at Helmut grew, I realized I hadn't heard his voice for a while. I wondered where he had crept off to and tried not to think about the seemingly never ending parade of dicks that were pumping load after load into my guts. Finally, the noise began to lessen. Those who had come to fuck seemed to leave pretty quickly after they shot their loads, but most of the men were really there to drink. After the first hour or so, the smell of alcohol became stronger and stronger on each man, and the dicks became limper and limper. The last guy to give it a go tried halfheartedly to fuck me with the limp noodle that had once been a dick before he drank it into oblivion. After only a couple of minutes of dry humping me, he staggered off, leaving the garage in silence.”
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