To Be Unbound

(Part 1 from 7. Fiction.)


At the end of July 2017, I was asleep while a burglar broke into my home. The burglar not only robbed me, but destroyed many of my belongings. By the time I woke up, the burglar was leaving the house.

After this terrible event happened, I heard about a young man who was raped by a mentally handicapped, homeless man while two thugs held him down.

Both events bothered me and plagued me for days. I have never felt "unsafe" since I've been an adult, but now…

I needed to work this shit out in my head. In the past, I have turned to the arts to help me cope with other traumas I have experienced. I tried writing a song... I tried creating some paintings… Nothing was coming to me. Then, I decided to go to my writing. I am a new writer and not the , by an means. I have found, however, that writing can sometimes help get me out of some real funky moods.

What you are about to read is purely fictitious. I am in no way an advocate of violence, rape, kidnapping or hate-speech. Having said that, I wanted to develop my characters as realistically as I could and they are a bit fucked up- Too say the least. Lol


If you are easily offended or "triggered", please read no further.

Again… purely fiction and no I do not advocate anything in this story… Except for the orgasms! ;)


I'm naked…

I got a piss hard-on…

Raging like crazy…

I can taste whiskey on my breath…

"Fuck," I mumble to myself, "What time is it?"

I look at the clock.

It reads 3:42AM.

"Jesus Christ. Ugh… It's going to be one of those nights."

I force my body to sit up. I swing my legs over the bed side and rest my elbows on my knees. I look down at my cock. It's hard. No, really fucking hard. I take a hold of it with my right hand and gently squeeze.

In a whisper, I scold my penis, "Haven't you had enough tonight?"

I stand up and walk to the bathroom. The room is aglow from the night lamp as I stand at the toilet and I steady my boner downward.


No way.

This is not going to work.

I decide to try some piss-acrobatics and place my right hand on the sink and raise my left leg, bent at the knee, till my presses against the wall as to steady myself over the toilet.

Then I feel it.

A warm stream of liquid inches down my inner thigh. With my left hand, I quickly reach between my legs and search for the mystery fluid. I swipe my finger against the goo and raise my hand to the light. I examine it and then smell it.

"That's cum," I chuckle.

Suddenly, I feel my dick spasm as I remember the events that happened only a few hours earlier. I started to think about when he first put it inside me. And how-


I have got to piss.

"Dead kittens… Dead kittens… Dead kittens… Dead kittens… " I chant to myself.

I can feel my boner deflating, so I chant some more. Then I hear a noise coming from downstairs. Immediately, my cock loses what's left of it's rigidness and I get back into traditional pissing position.

More noise from downstairs.

It's probably Joseph, my son. I thought he was at his girlfriend's tonight. Maybe they had a fight. After I shake the remaining piss from my dick, I walk back to the bedroom and look about the floor.

There they are.

I grab my boxer briefs and slip them on. I turn and begin to walk down the stairs to the kitchen.

A thud.

The front door.

I walk towards the living room and my eyes begin to adjust to the low light coming from the toppled lamp by the sofa. As I scan the room, I notice the door is ajar. I move toward it when I see my flat screen in the middle of the floor and realize, the place has been ransacked.


No… No!

I run to the front door and shut it in a craze. I dart my eyes around the mess and spy my jeans on the floor under the coffee table. My wallet is sitting on top of them with my ID and some business cards laying on it.

"Oh god," I whisper, "Not my rent money!"

I dive on the floor and grab the wallet. I open it up and there is nothing in it. Someone had just broken into my home and stole my rent… And my DVDs… And obviously, tried to steal my TV. I throw my wallet to the floor and stand up. I move to the door in a flash and fling it open. I run out into the street and look either way. To my right I can see nothing but the lonely looking alley way with it's warehouses surrounding it. I scan the lamp-lit tore up alley, but nothing.


I wonder why they tore up the alley down there. Maybe they started the repaving. Then I look below my feet and see that in front of the residential end, the first coat of blacktop had been laid. It is fresh too, as my feet are sticking to it.

Then I look to my left and all I can see is the fenced in parking lot and a large warehouse that runs the length of the entire block.

No one…

Any where…

I turn to go back into the house. I run upstairs and grab my phone from the bedroom.

I call 911.

I'm now on autopilot for the next hour.

All I want to do is clean the mess up, but the police and investigator said I cannot touch anything until they dust for prints. Whoever broke into my home was not very bright. They left visible fingerprints everywhere- Especially on my flat screen. The police also found footprints and got the shoe size of the burglar. While they seemed optimistic, I knew I was never going to see that rent money again… Or my DVDs.

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