The Bad Life – Chapter 10.1 – The Lover in a Dream

Author: nicotine

I could no longer form any thoughts. It felt like I’d lost the ability to think. I lay curled up on the mattress like a dead animal, listless, as the afternoon passed.

No one came to see me. Only in the evening did the workers arrive. They forced water down my throat and shoved a bowl of stew in my face. I sat still, refusing to eat. Then Lasso came over and slapped my face. I took a few hits without resisting. He wasn’t satisfied. He slapped me again, kicked my shoulder, and stomped on my stomach several times. I took it quietly. I didn’t even feel the pain.

Lasso stopped throwing punches and raped me instead. The workers watched. When Lasso was done, the workers gang-raped me.

At first, I had no energy, but as time passed, I regained a little strength. When a worker told me to get on top and move, I complied obediently. When they inserted their cocks, I moved my hips in rhythm. I sucked the cocks they shoved in my face. When I didn’t speak, they forced me to talk. When I didn’t moan, they made me moan. When I couldn’t get hard, they hit my cock. What started as rape turned into debauchery. We had an orgy.

About an hour later, the workers left.

After they were gone, Simon and James came. Simon made James have sex with me. James cried as he fucked me. As soon as he came, James fled. Simon gave me water, let me urinate, cleaned my filthy body, and told me to take medicine. He said he’d have sex with me once I fell asleep. I took the medicine. I fell asleep.

The next day, and the day after, and the day after that were much the same. Sometimes the workers came in groups, sometimes alone. They satisfied their lust and left. I ate nothing. Even when Simon held a spoon to my mouth for an hour or two, I didn’t open it. After a silent standoff, Simon would leave without success. But when the workers fed me, I ate. They fed me and fucked me. James came every day. He seemed dragged in. James only came after the workers had left. He cried as he penetrated my ruined body. Simon gave me medicine every night. I took it obediently. Every night, I slept soundly without pain.

I don’t know if a week passed, two weeks, or a month. It was still hot, and I was still trapped there. At some point, they untied my wrists. I wore a collar like Lasso’s around my neck and waited for people in the log cabin. Like a dog guarding a house, like a dog waiting for its master.

The workers grew to like me more and more. James still cried. Simon gave me medicine every night. I never saw Matt, Jerome, or Ms. Acacia again. I watched the summer outside the window while being kept like livestock. Then one day, James whispered in my ear, out of Simon’s earshot.

<I’ll help you escape.>

I stared at him blankly. I pushed James away and curled up on my side.

I can’t escape. I’m paying for my sins. For the past five years, instead of atoning, I avoided and ignored the crime of killing my friend. Now, I’m finally being judged.

There’s nowhere to escape to. This is exactly where I was meant to be.

I barely ate, so I spent most of my time lying on the mattress like a lifeless slab of meat. Eating, shitting, sleeping, and offering my ass were all I did, so it was hard to say I wasn’t just meat. I lay still or sat motionless all day. I ate only one meal.

Some workers started coming alone. They seemed to have grown fond of me. They often brought freshly baked bread and butter from town. Sometimes fruit. They gave me cola or beer too. I usually accepted the food, but my appetite dwindled, and I lost weight quickly. My once sturdy, muscular body didn’t waste away, but my thighs, arms, and waist became slimmer.

It grew harder to distinguish the passage of time. Some days, I’d sleep for hours and wake up to find it still daytime. I’d fall back asleep and wake again, still in daylight.

Whenever I slept, I always dreamed. The dream was always the same. My hands and feet were free, but I didn’t untie the rope around my neck. I lay on the mattress, waiting for everyone. I ate the food they gave me and served them. When I woke from the dream, I repeated the same actions in reality. At some point, I stopped remembering when I fell asleep. Waking up always felt strange. Was I really awake? Where was I? Would I see a different scene if I opened my eyes? My curiosity always led to a dull conclusion. Whether I opened or closed my eyes, the same scene repeated. And so, I grew accustomed to the sleeping me…

Thanks to that, I could overhear Simon’s conversation with .

It was when I woke up. I’d grown so used to my sleeping self that even when awake, I kept my eyes closed and breathed as if still asleep. Simon didn’t notice and kept talking.

<Sometimes, some people are hard to understand.>

Surprisingly, Simon spoke in a soft, almost playful voice, like he was whining. It was a tone I’d never heard before.

No response came. But Simon kept talking, unbothered.

The moment Simon said my name, I opened my eyes without thinking. Simon was gazing at me endlessly. In that moment, his face looked like a stranger’s. How do I describe that face? A soft, gentle smile. I had no idea Simon could make such an expression. His deep eyes curved like crescent moons, looking fondly at a beloved partner. His face overflowed with serene happiness. Yes, that was the expression of someone who cherished me…

But the moment our eyes met, it all vanished as if erased. Simon, lying on his side next to me, head resting on his arm, sat up slowly the instant our eyes locked. His usual cold, rigid expression returned, and he stared at me silently, as if offended.

I looked up at Simon and blurted out.

<Yeah.>

Simon answered, surprisingly without hesitation.

<Why?>

I asked, just curious. Simon stood up entirely but didn’t avoid the question.

With that, Simon walked away without looking back. It was just dawn outside. From that day, I started eavesdropping on Simon and ’s conversations.

I must have gotten used to the medicine. Usually, when I woke up, Simon was already gone, but after overhearing that first conversation with , I started waking while he was still there. Naturally, I didn’t repeat the mistake of opening my eyes. I kept them closed, pretending to sleep, and listened to him until he left.

His stories were unbelievably ordinary. So ordinary I couldn’t accept that he was human. But Simon was ordinary.

<Today, pigeons suddenly flew into the set. Not one, but three of them. I don’t know where they came from. I hate birds. I was really flustered, but luckily Alice jumped up and chased them out, so I just sat there. What about you, Raymond? If you like them, we could keep some, but I’d clip their wings a bit.>

He’d lean against me, rubbing his nose against my ear, acting cute.

He kissed my cheek and whispered.

Simon seemed to talk a lot. I just couldn’t hear it all. Since I fell asleep from the medicine, I had no way of knowing what he rambled about all night. So I decided to stop taking the medicine.

Skipping it was easy.

That day, a lot of workers came. Over ten, in a group. They drank, chatted, played cards, and when their turn came, they fucked, thrusted, and came. They stayed a while after their turn, talking before leaving. I lay on my side on the mattress, blinking, watching them.

After they left, Simon brought James as usual. James was wasting away, his jaw sharper than when we first met. He still cried, even after all this time. His tears dripped onto my cheeks. We didn’t speak, and Simon watched silently. After James left, Simon asked questions.

<Yeah.>

<Meat, bread, soup.>

By then, Simon knew I ate what the workers gave me.

<Water?>

Simon didn’t ask more and took me to wash. He cleaned me from head to toe, dried my hair, and handed me water and medicine. While Simon put a sheet on the mattress, I drank the water but dropped the medicine on the cement floor, crushing it with my heel.

I crawled onto the mattress and lay down. Simon sat by the window frame, smoking. Sometimes I wanted a cigarette too. Watching him smoke, I closed my eyes. Usually, I’d fall asleep before he finished. I closed my eyes and waited.

Soon, I heard footsteps. With my eyes closed, sounds and smells felt closer. The fresh scent of Simon’s cigarette wafted over. He was close but hadn’t touched me yet. Was he waiting for something…? What was he waiting for? What should I do? Did he notice I wasn’t asleep? A flurry of thoughts crossed my mind, but it was a false alarm. Simon kissed me.

After the brief kiss, there was a rustling sound. Listening closely, I realized it was him undressing. I was surprised. Simon had never undressed and lain with me, not even at Bluebell. His bare skin, touching mine, was warm like his hands. As his warm body held me tightly, I felt… strange. Simon kissed me again.

I almost answered instinctively.

He gently licked my lips. He rubbed his nose against mine, kissed my cheek, and nibbled my ear. As Simon caressed me so tenderly, I couldn’t help but notice. How did I react when I was asleep? Did I get hard? His warm hand kept stroking my arm and side. Simon’s scent filled my nose. The sound of his kisses and his slightly quickened breathing reached me softly.

His cock touched my thigh. Rubbing his hot, erect cock, Simon kept caressing me. I lay still like a log. I wasn’t aroused. I just wanted to know how Simon acted. Instead of talking, he used his lips more for caressing. Only when he slid into my already softened insides did he let out a low moan and speak.

<Ah… Raymond…>

Simon stroked my cheek, sounding concerned.

Simon murmured, pressing his forehead to my chest. I subtly opened my eyes. His black hair was disheveled over my chest. I closed my eyes again.

Simon moved his hips slowly. He pushed his cock in deeply and pulled it out slowly, repeating the motion while kissing my cheeks and ears countless times. Simon whispered incessantly in a tender voice.

<Raymond, it feels so good inside you… ah, so good…>

He pressed his lips to my forehead and eyes, whispering endlessly.

As his thrusts gradually quickened, Simon’s breathing grew rapid. I listened numbly to the sound of flesh colliding, waiting for him to come.

Simon came inside me, resting his forehead on my shoulder as he caught his breath. Once his breathing calmed, he pulled out and moved downward. The next moment, I nearly opened my eyes in shock. Simon had taken my cock into his mouth. He licked it gently with his tongue, pursed his lips, and caressed it. He sucked and licked my cock devotedly, but I was so tense I couldn’t get hard at all. Simon murmured.

Simon moved back up and kissed my lips with a soft smack.

<It’s okay if you don’t want it.>

In that moment, I realized. Simon wasn’t kissing , caressing , or loving and cherishing . The Simon had been gazing at so lovingly wasn’t actually me—it was .

It was a strange feeling. Simon was looking at me but also seeing someone else. Yet that someone was also me. But it wasn’t me either. That night, all the caresses, kisses, and whispers of love from Simon weren’t directed at me. They were for . Simon was making love to , resting his head on his arm, indulging in the afterglow with .

I hadn’t realized before, but Simon slept briefly beside me while I was asleep. When Simon fell asleep, I opened my eyes. I looked at his peacefully sleeping face. It was the second time I’d seen him asleep. The first was the night at Bluebell when I tried to burn him alive. Simon’s face had changed a lot since that night. The boy had grown into a man, his face now mature and solid. Was it only his appearance that had changed?

Suddenly, I wanted to touch Simon’s cheek. I wondered what it would feel like to touch his firm, stubbled cheek and jaw, to kiss that rough skin. I instinctively raised my hand but slowly lowered it. I shouldn’t touch him now. For some reason, I felt like I’d become his lover for the night. It was as if I’d stolen the place of , who was supposed to receive Simon’s love here. I could never be … I stared endlessly at Simon’s face and, at some point, fell asleep too.

I woke soon after to the sound of Simon’s voice. Wanting to keep listening, I kept my eyes closed.

Simon whispered, stroking my cheek with a hushed voice. His hand was warm.

<We’ve both come too far to escape.>

<…>

<…>

Simon’s voice grew wet. I listened silently. Simon buried his face in my shoulder, his voice trembling with pain.

Simon cried silently until dawn when he left. His tears soaked my shoulder, letting me know he was still crying. When he left me, Simon tightly squeezed my hand with his hot hand.

After he left, I lay there blankly, thinking. Why can’t I be ? Why can’t I receive Simon’s love? can’t respond to Simon at all. He just leaves him hurt. I could help him. Like I did with Carl, I could apologize to Simon. I’m sorry for betraying your love. I’m sorry for deceiving and hurting you. Now I’m your lover. Your only lover. I won’t lie to you again. Make me your lover. Give me a chance to atone. I genuinely wanted to be .

The boundary between dream and reality grew increasingly blurry.

I was certain I was in reality, receiving Simon’s caresses, but when I opened my eyes, I was alone on the mattress, and in that moment, I felt so lonely I tried to get up, only to wake from another dream.

I was certain I was in a dream, listening to Simon’s sweet whispers, but suddenly someone shook me, and when I opened my eyes, the workers were there. As I spread my legs for them and buried my face in the mattress, I woke from Simon’s whispers.

I didn’t take the medicine. Or was not taking it a dream? It felt like I had taken it. Or was taking it the dream? I couldn’t tell. My memories were fragmented. It always seemed like broad daylight when I opened my eyes. I met Simon every night, so it made sense I never saw the night. But it felt like I lived only at night. When I woke and it was bright, it felt like a dream. I didn’t know how day and night flipped and flowed. The weather must have been changing—some days cloudy, some days rainy—but in my memory, it was only clear and hot.

The muggy air and sweat made my body sticky. My throat was parched, I was endlessly sleepy, and I lay limp in the heat, too weak to lift a finger. I did nothing, yet I was too tired to even lift my eyelids. It was confusing yet simple and clear. Sometimes, indistinguishable voices whispered sharply, piercing my ears.

“…”

“…”

“…”

<It’s too loose. Tighten your hole. Squeeze.>

<I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you… No, I’m sorry, that was a lie…>

“…”

<Ugh, fuck, I’m coming, ugh!>

“…”

Whether I opened or closed my eyes, it was all the same, so at some point, I kept them open. Or maybe I kept them closed. My bodily sensations faded. I thought I moved, but I hadn’t twitched a finger. I thought I was asleep, but I’d be standing upright on the cement floor. Voices grew faint, then suddenly pierced my ears with clarity. Occasionally, bright shadows flickered in my dark vision. It was as if it was all a dream. As if nothing was real, and it was all a dream. As if I’d never moved and had just been lying there for ages.

It wasn’t Simon, James, or the workers shaking me awake, but someone far away, unimaginably far, who’d been trying to wake me all along. Someone who’d been waiting for me for so long… Am I becoming ? Is calling me? If this voice is ’s, am I talking to myself? Among the ownerless voices I’d heard, I listened to the that had always been silent. If the voice was silent, I should’ve heard nothing.

But it was strange. I heard the sound of silence. Silence was shouting at me. There was a desperate cry to wake me. A scream I’d heard somewhere before, a cry I was sure I’d heard. It was ’s, my silence. My, ’s, our voice. I was screaming desperately.

“…Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

Author's Thoughts

There are numerous stimulating scenes involving rape, gang rape, violence, abuse, and drugs. Please practice discretion as you proceed.

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