Lane Assignments

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

An hour later, Jose is pacing back and forth across his tiny dorm room, still trying to fit the pieces of my fucked up life together. Trying to

"So your step-father raped you when you were sixteen, and you think that's why you don't like to be touched... intimately. But you know you like guys because of those fantasies about -"

"Coach Grey," I interject.

"Coach Grey. Tell me, have there been times when you used... pain as a way to feel alive?"

"Like cutting myself or something? No!"

"No... not like that, mi amor. I mean like... when I wrestle, and my face is being smashed into the mat, sometimes it feels good. You know, like life-affirming."

"Ohh... yeah I know what you mean. When I'm running and my lungs are burning, when my muscles are on fire, it's like that."

"Exactly. And what I'm wondering is... maybe - touch - needs to be like that for you. A mix of pain and pleasure."

"Jose, I don't think pain is going to help anything. When number three - you know - it was painful."

"But it was only painful, right?"

"Jose! Of course there was no pleasure... gross!"

"And with the two boys in high school, there was pain... but also no pleasure, at least not with the touching?"

"Right." Where exactly is he going with this? I think Jose might be crazy, but I have to admit that he has my attention.

"And with - Coach Grey - the fantasies were pleasurable, but you knew you couldn't have him. You knew he was unattainable, that it was safe."

Oh yeah, they were pleasurable all right... and they still are. But lately, they haven't been enough. The haven't been enough release the pressure building up inside me. Pressure from too many expectations, a need to be perfect.

"Do you think I'm attractive, or at least not repulsive? I mean - physically?"

"You're not bad," I sass, "But I told you, I'm not interested in you that -"

Jose cuts me off. "When I was fifteen, a sophomore in high school, I felt just like you're describing. My father had just drank himself to death... and by that I mean he got drunk and then wrapped his car around a tree."

"Oh Jose... you never told me -"

He holds up a hand to stop me. "Because if I told you that part, I'd have to tell you the rest. That I was messed up, falling in with the wrong crowd, dropping out of wrestling, getting in fights... until the girl next door came over and kissed me. And then she smacked me across the face. Hard. And it was incredible."

"How old was she?"

"Just twenty but... she knew some things. She took me under her wing, dug in her talons, and whipped me - and fucked me - until I could see straight again. This went on for two years until she moved away. Back then, I didn't know what is was called, but now I know she was a Dominatrix. And I - lucky little bastard - was her submissive."

I know my mouth is wide open, that I am gaping like a fish. Holy shit.

"After her, and once I turned eighteen, I explored the BDSM lifestyle. There wasn't a lot going on in Yakima, but I found a few partners who were willing. But once I got here to Portland... Oh man, it was like a whole new word. I went to some clubs, and trained to be a Dominant. But I've never gone beyond - scenes - in the clubs."