Page 8 of Bend Him, Break Him
Isaac tsked while all the GSA members swooned for Colton’s bravery like tragic little sycophants hoping to carve their way into the jock’s life.
Isaac couldn’t help but wonder how much respect folks would lose if they knew the truth about Colton. Oh yeah, tons of heteronormative queers were pricks and bullies before they finally came out of the closet, but Colton took things to a whole other level.
If they knew what Colton had done to Isaac back in high school, would they still clamor over his every word? Or would they even care? What was in the past was in the past, after all. And Isaac knew all too well how no one at his school had cared what happened; no one in his town, not even his family, offered more than backhanded pity.
Everyone blamed Isaac, accused him of acting out and buying into the obvious lies he’d done this for attention. It was easier than supporting him.
Isaac rolled his eyes up to the ceiling to fight back the tears as the horrifying memory surfaced. It took work to keep himself composed on the outside as he fought a battle with his mind.
Isaac had hated Colton for years. He’d spent most of his youth being teased by Colton and his friends. Then, when everyone found out Isaac was gay, the teasing turned into hateful bullying. Colton was the worst about it until junior year. Something in Colton changed, but not really. Colton followed Isaac on his walk home so closely that Isaac was convinced Colton planned to jump him when he cut through the woods.
Colton had stalked closer, shoved Isaac against a tree, and went to kiss him. It was the most startlingalmostin Isaac’s life. Colton couldn’t bring his lips to meet Isaac’s; instead, he’d buried his face in the crook of Isaac’s neck and grinded against him.
“You like this, don’t you?” Colton panted and pressed his body harder, rippling muscles working Isaac over as the hard bark of a tree clawed at his back. “You want me?”
Isaac nodded, unable to speak.
When Colton whipped out his dick, Isaac didn’t even hesitate. He started stroking the jock immediately.
“On your fucking knees.” Colton’s firm hand pushed down on Isaac’s shoulder, and he obediently dropped down.
He’d never done anything with anyone up until that point, but he sucked Colton off until he shot his load in Isaac’s mouth.
Isaac could still recall how it felt to choke on Colton’s cock. Day after day, he serviced him, talked with him briefly before and after, and in some foolish idiocy, Isaac convinced himself there was something between them. The only thing between Isaac and Colton was cum. Colton’s cum to be clear. He wanted a mouth to use and a throat to abuse, and Isaac willingly took his dick day after day for the better part of the school year without complaint or expectations.
Isaac refused to see this arrangement for what it was, refused to believe he was just an easy lay meant to suck the star pitcher’s cock when it was convenient for Colton.
At the time, Isaac hadn’t realized how much happier he appeared even when being used as a personal cum dumpster for the guy he liked, by the bully who had a secret soft spot for him. It blinded Isaac to the threats and dangers surrounding him.
At a young age, Isaac had learned to be hyper-aware of the dangers other people presented. Years of taunting, teasing, harassing, mockery, and assault had taught Isaac to always stay vigilant. Colton had washed away those securities. Colton’s cock had left Isaac drunk on lust and lost in fantasies of what might be. What would never be.
When Colton invited Isaac into the custodian closet during school, Isaac prepared for another brutal face fucking, eagerly hoping this would be the one that led to something more. This would be the one where Colton finally kissed him afterward. Maybe this would be the one that made Colton realize he wanted more than a secret relationship; maybe he’d finally see Isaac as someone worth showing off and coming out for. Isaac knew he was a delusional fool for such fantasies, but they kept him happy every time he dropped to his knees to take Colton’s cock.
There was no blowjob that day, though. Colton craved something more. Alone in the closet away from the world, Colton caressed Isaac in a way he rarely did, in a way that sparked Isaac’s desires until all logic fell away. When Colton demanded Isaac strip, he obeyed, standing stark naked and ready to please Colton in any way he could. After five months, Isaac believed they were going to finally take the next step. But it wasn’t pleasure Colton craved—it was control, humiliation, and destruction.
The closet door whipped open, and the cameras flashed. Isaac’s entire body erupted in icy goosebumps and burning embarrassment, his stomach churning somersaults. More jocks than Isaac could count rushed into the closet, calling Isaac slurs and smacking him with belts and towels and even their fists. It was brutal and bloody, and most of the memory during those awful ten minutes of physical torment only came back as searing flashes. Isaac didn’t wanna remember the sounds of their laughs, the wicked smiles on their faces, the loud tears he cried as they kept pelting him, kept striking him, kept demanding he beg.
When a few jocks grabbed his arms and yanked him out of the closet, Isaac froze. Part of him was terrified, but another part was relieved to be freed from the closet before they could hurt him more. He stood naked in the hallway, lost in the taunting words, the booming laughter, the cutting remarks, and the flashes. They were still taking pictures.
Isaac fled. Lost in a blur of tears and hyperventilating, he nearly collapsed in the crowded hallway as he bolted to the office. Of course, the jocks had timed the humiliation right as the second bell of the morning went off.
When the time came to answer questions, Isaac revealed everything. Well, not everything. He said Colton had lured him into the custodian’s closet, but not how he’d done it. Despite all the hate he held for Colton now, back then, a secret part of him still yearned to keep Colton’s secret. A part of him clung to the sad, broken expression Colton made in the closet while his teammates beat Isaac relentlessly.
No one believed Isaac’s story. No one wanted to believe their star golden boy would do something so awful. No one wanted to believe the best athletes in a decade had hazed Isaac. Colton’s story of the team in the weight room went unchallenged. Eventheir coach backed up the tale, not an ounce of hesitation when he entered the dean’s office with Isaac and his parents and confirmed he saw all the athletes working out. He even gave a bullshit story on how he took a mental headcount of everyone there.
Oh, how furious Isaac’s parents were at that statement. Not with the school. With Isaac. No matter what happened, his perverse desires led him down this path in some way, or so his mother muttered passive aggressively for the days that followed Isaac’s ‘incident.’ If Isaac just didn’t need to parade himself around, this would’ve never happened. His father was more convinced Isaac was pulling some political queer stunt than he was about Isaac being lured into the custodian closet by the star pitcher.
The pictures had disappeared from the jocks’ phones—but a few nudes they’d taken still floated around Snapchat and group chats and DMs. Isaac knew those were the pictures the jocks had taken, the angles perfectly aligned with the custodian closet he’d been thrown out of. But the administration claimed anyone could’ve taken those pictures since Isaac ran naked through the hallways.
Isaac knew, though. Isaac knew the truth. But Isaac didn’t know why Colton did it. He didn’t know why Colton betrayed him, abandoned him to the wolves, and broke him in front of everyone.
Every part of Isaac wanted to die. He hated being around people, he hated being by himself, and he hated every waking moment of his life up until winter break when he used the isolation of the holiday to plan an escape. Running away from his problems would get him nowhere. That’d been a lesson he learned while naked in the halls of his school. Fleeingonly delayed the pain. No, Isaac didn’t want to run from his problems; he wanted to run toward his solution.
From freshman year, he’d taken extra classes and maintained a high GPA while performing extracurricular activities, hoping to have the best senior application in his school district. He hoped his junior year marks would be enough to stand out when he decided to graduate early and apply to colleges.
It worked. Isaac got accepted to the University of Clinton, packed up everything he could fit in the ’76 station wagon he bought off some elderly woman online, and drove to college. He’d never turned back. Isaac didn’t come home, didn’t call his parents, didn’t message his siblings, didn’t miss his family. He simply disappeared from their lives, and they seemed okay with it. No animosity either way. Just silence met with surrender. They cut off his trust fund and pretended he didn’t exist.
Isaac had spent his childhood too vocal about science, too bold about politics, and too proud of his homosexuality. While his family tolerated him, they didn’t accept him, so when he finally cut that cord, he realized they’d already severed the thread from their end, too. No bridge to mend, so he let it burn and focused on finding a new life on his own.
