Despised And Devoured By My Step Father

Who the hell is Chad?

Danny's POV

"Are you out of your mind?"

Chadwick spat out the words like venom. He recoiled as if my question had been a physical blow to his face. The composed, untouchable Chadwick was gone. In his place was a man whose skin was flushing a deep, angry red, his chest heaving under the weight of a sudden panic.

"Is that what you think this is?" Chadwick hissed, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I told you not to get any funny ideas.... I just hate you, that is all this is."

He took a few slow steps away from me, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. For a moment I saw he was trembling.

"You are a freak, boy. A boy who thinks like a girl. All this pink and strawberries you wear gets your head messed up. Drawing that filth in your book, projecting your sickness onto me because you can't handle the fact that I am the only one who sees you for what you truly are." Chadwick walked toward the door, gesturing at it. "Get out. Get out of my office before I call your mother and tell her what kind of art you spend your nights perfecting."

I felt the sting of the words, the familiar burn of being called a freak by the man who was vibrating with enough hunger to devour me just a few minutes ago. But the fear didn't take hold of me this time. Why should I be scared? At least I lived in my truth in school, unlike him, who was hiding his sexuality behind my mum. I looked at Chadwick, really looked at him and saw the way the man's eyes were still darting toward my exposed thighs, the way his breath was hitching in a rhythm that had nothing to do with his false anger.

I moved toward the door. Taking a bold, deliberate step closer, with my pants still hanging right above my knee.

"You can't hide what you are," I whispered, my voice steady even as my heart thundered. I stepped into Chadwick's personal space, my fingers, nearly brushing his expensive shirt. "You, are a f*****g coward."

I didn't stop. I pressed my petite body against Chadwick's, forcing the old man to feel the heat radiating through my sweatpants, purposely rubbing myself on his meat, that was already bulging from his tailored trouser. I looked up, locking my eyes with the professor, refusing to blink.

"See that?" I leaned in, my voice dropping to a jagged, intimate whisper. "See the way your body is aching for me? Feel that hard c**k pressing against me and tell me again that you are a straight man. Tell me, this is all just biology lessons and hate. You want me so bad it's making you sick, Chad. Don't be a coward. Admit you want to f**k my ass...."

Chadwick's hand flew to my jaw, his fingers digging into the bone with a grip that actually hurt me. He looked like he was about to snap my neck, or devour me. The air in the room was thick, charged with a tension so heavy it felt like it might explode.

BEEP BEEP BEEEEP

The silence was shattered by a shrill, upbeat chirping.

Chadwick's phone, sitting on the desk, came up with a photo of a smiling woman. My mother.

The name of the screen felt like a bucket of ice water to me. Chadwick flinched, his hand dropping from my face as if he had been burned. He walked to the desk and picked up the phone, with a steady hand.

"Hey, honey," Chadwick said into the phone. His voice was smooth. It was warm. It was the voice of a man who loved his wife. "Yeah.... just finishing up a meeting with, uhm...a student. I will be home for dinner in an hour. Love you too."

I felt a wave of nausea so strong I had to steady myself against the wall. I watched as Chadwick stood there, playing the role of a devoted husband. I was just there, standing, my pants hanging around my knees. I felt betrayed, why I felt betrayed was something I couldn't wrap my head around. He was my mum's husband, I had no right to feel cheated.

Without a word, I pulled up my pants, grabbed my bag and bolted. I didn't look back. I ran down the hallway, the smell of old paper and wax chasing me like a ghost.

By the time I reached the dorms, my lungs were burning and my vision was blurred with hot, stinging tears of rage. I slammed my door shut, the sound echoed in the small room. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear the walls down.

I didn't hear the movement behind me until it was too late.

"Danny? Hey, where have you .."

Leo was there. He had been sitting on my bed, waiting. Before I could even process the sight of him, Leo was up, his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me into a kiss that was meant to be comforting but just felt like a distraction.

"I was so worried, man," Leo murmured against his lips. "You looked so distracted today."

Leo's touch was soft. It was kind. It was everything that felt right and healthy. But as Leo's hands slipped under my shirt, my skin felt cold. I wanted to pull away, but then a thought struck me, a dark, vengeful impulse.

I should go against my hot step daddy.

I grabbed Leo, my fingers digging into his shoulders with a desperate, bruising force. I kissed him back, but I wasn't seeing Leo anymore. I closed my eyes and forced my brain to rewrite my reality. I imagined the smell of sandalwood instead of Leo's laundry. I imagined the weight of a charcoal suit instead of Leo's hoodie.

"My bed, now," I rasped, my voice sounding foreign even to myself.

We tumbled onto the thin dorm mattress, a mess of limbs and frantic breathing. Leo was eager, his movement full of genuine affection that didn't feel right to me. As our clothes were kicked away, I kept my eyes squeezed shut. I needed the darkness. I needed to believe those hands on my hips were larger, older and more cruel.

Leo entered me, I let out a jagged, broken moan. It was raw. It was painful. It was almost the kind of friction I had been craving in that office. Leo was moving at a frantic rhythm, his chest heaving against me, his hair damp with sweat.

"You're so... beautiful, Danny," Leo gasped, his voice full of love that made me want to vomit.

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was lost in a fever dream. I was back in the office. I was back on the road in the dark, with the Bentley trailing me. I was back at the moment where Chadwick's wedding ring had scraped against my skin. The pleasure was there, sharp and hot, but it was being fed by a ghost.

Leo sped up, his thrusts becoming deep and harder, rougher, his hands pinning my wrists to the pillow.

My head thrashed back, my teeth gritted, my body aching as I hit the peak of a climax that felt more like an explosion. The world narrowed down to the sound of skin slapping against skin and the frantic beat of two hearts.

"Oh god," I choked out, the air leaving my lungs in a rush of heat.

"Fuck...fuck... Chad.."

The rhythm stopped instantly. The silence that followed was deafening. The heat vanished as Leo went dead weight, then slowly agonizingly pulled back.

Leo looked down at me, his expression shifting from glow to a raw, jagged look of dawning horror. His voice, when it finally came, was a whisper that felt louder than a scream.

"Who the hell is Chad, Danny?"