Zombies Suck (17 page)

Storm asked, “Are you on ’roids? Dude, you’re huge.” A tentative hand reached out to stroke Alex’s new biceps and triceps. A sharp intake of the man’s breath made Alex glance into Storm’s eyes in time to witness the heat and desire there.

“How about we go in the back to talk.”

“Why? What can’t you tell us right now?” Storm demanded as his fists clenched. “I mean, what’s the big secret?” He glanced over at Uli for an answer. “Other than him turning into a Goddamned body builder overnight.”

“He’s right, we should talk, but there’s too many people. Come on.” Uli led them down the long, winding corridors.

“Isn’t this where…” Cutter’s question trailed off as Storm growled. “What?” he asked, as if daring Storm to say something more.

Uli turned a little pink in his cheeks. “Yeah, down that hallway.” He pointed into the dimness to a place the zombies referred to as “blowjob alley”—a winding dark hall with small alcoves giving a sense of privacy. The placements of handgrips and padded benches allowed no mistake in the intended purpose of these niches. A few muted moans served to indicate it was in use.

They arrived at door number 28; Alex opened it with the key and held the door. As the others entered, the tension grew as if they each understood this conversation would change their lives.

Uli hurried over to sit down at the simple, cherry wood table. Everyone followed, ignoring the platform bed and the evidence this room was for private hookups of the sexual kind.

Once they were all seated, Storm asked once again, “What the fuck?” He gestured toward Alex’s larger frame and muscles. He reached out to touch again but caught himself and pulled back.

Alex cleared his throat and glanced over at Uli, who too appeared clueless on how to proceed. In retrospect, they probably should have planned this part better.

Inhaling to find his center, Alex gave it his best attempt. “You know how movie zombies need brains to survive?”

“Yeah?” Storm squinted his eyes suspiciously as he stared at Alex.

Cutter mimicked the last zombie movie. “Brains, brains brains.” He shook his head so his brown hair fell back over his face, nearly covering his eyes.

Uli frowned. “Yeah, well real zombies don’t need brains.”

Storm barked out a laugh, making Uli jump. “
Real
zombies?”

Cutter sat back abruptly in his chair to regard Uli and Alex as if he were trying to put together a puzzle but someone stole several key pieces.

“Yeah, real zombies,” Uli chimed in. “They don’t eat brains. That’s just disgusting. I mean, really how sharp would their teeth have to be to gnaw through a skull? The whole freaking concept doesn’t even make much sense.”

Putting a hand on Ulrich’s shoulder did nothing to slow the German man’s temper. Uli was close to boiling, but it was Cutter who took that as a piece of the puzzle.

Storm cracked up. “You’re killing me.”

Cutter stood up, knocking over his chair. “Tell us about
real
zombies, Uli.” He eyed the door and snapped his wrist rubber band.

Grimacing, Storm grabbed Cutter’s marked wrist and tenderly traced the angry line before kissing the injury. “Stop that.” He turned back to Uli. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“Zombies search for their mates, and when they find them they need no one else.”

“Awwww, how romantic,” Storm snarked before he picked up Cutter’s chair. He rolled his eyes, but Cutter snapped his band again. This time Storm brought Cutter’s wrist and licked moisture over the red line before his slipped the rubber band off his best friend’s wrist and used it to hold his hair off his face.

Cutter paced back and forth, never going very far before turning around and heading back to everyone. “Is that what this is?”

“What
what
is?” Storm asked cautiously, as if he wanted a few more minutes to stay ignorant.

“Yes,” Alex replied, grabbing onto Cutter’s hand to guide him into the empty chair before he could make another loop with his pacing.

“Okay” was all Cutter said, but his eyes were flashing with a million questions.

“What, what is?” Storm demanded, narrow gaze zeroing in on Cutter.

“This.” Cutter gestured between the four of them.

Growling, Storm asked again with his gaze glued to Cutter. “What’s
this
?”

Alex touched him to draw his attention. “We, the four of us, are mates.”

“We’re zombies.” Uli pointed to himself and Alex.

Not giving Storm a chance to speak, Cutter asked, “As your mates would we become zombies too?”

After Uli nodded, Storm hit the table with the palm of his hand. “What does that even mean? Zombies? I mean you two are just two regular guys…” He turned to Cutter for validation. “Right?” Apparently, Cutter’s shrug didn’t give him the reassurance he looked for. He pinned Alex with a questioning gaze. “So this is why you got all muscular?”

“Yes and no.” Putting up a hand to stay Storm’s mouth, which was likely gearing up to head off into a different direction, Alex continued, “I went through a relatively rare secondary transition, making me more dominant.”

Cutter gripped the table. “So how does this work? How do you know?”

Uli must have decided it was his turn to speak. “Basically, at nineteen, if you’re zombie, you need male essence daily to survive. We seek our mates and bond with them. That’s the first transition. If we don’t find them be the time we are twenty-three, we lose the ability to orgasm and regain the pleasure only after the exchange with our mate.”

“So male essence is…” Storm let it dangle.

“Ejaculate,” Alex provided the answer.

Storm leaned forward. “So to break the zombie mate thing down, you suck cock until you find your mate, and if you don’t you can’t come anymore.” Storm articulated each word as if he were weighing it on a truth scale.

“Is that why everyone here drops to their knees on a regular basis?”

Uli smiled a little. “Pretty much.”

After a nod from Uli, Storm asked, “What’s the exchange?”

“How do you know you’ve found your mate?” Cutter chimed in.

“Mates,” Alex corrected. “When their ejaculate is ingested we orgasm as an unbreakable bond forms.” Then he went on to the harder question. “An exchange requires blood. If the mate accepts the bond, a small exchange of blood is necessary. The blood makes the bond permanent.”

“What else?” Storm folded his arms and sat back.

“Mates need to ingest each other’s come or their bodies cease to function.” Reading the question in both their eyes, Alex said, “Yes, zombies live indefinitely.”

“How do you know we’re yours, Alex? You’ve never been with either of us,” Cutter quietly asked without looking up.

“The doctor said that the intuition is probably part of the secondary transition. I can feel our bonds even though they haven’t been twined together.”

“Damn, zombies are more clingy than a lesbian.” Storm flinched when Cutter smacked him. “What? We haven’t even had sex with the guy, and he’s telling us we’re bound for life.”

“Eternity, actually.” Uli slid his chair from the table to stand up and lumber across the room. “Nothing you have to decide right now.” His voice cracked ever so slightly as he stared at the light gray wall.

Alex could feel waves of pain rolling off him. He strode the few feet it took to put them toe-to-toe. “Hey, it’s okay.” He whispered, “It’s okay. You have me.” But he was sure their conversation with Corey was still fresh in his mind. There would be no escaping the empty existence they faced without all of their mates.

Uli wrapped his arms around Alex and brokenly confessed, “But I want them too.”

“I know.” From the corner of his eyes he noticed Storm studying them, but not Cutter. “Where’s Cutter?”

Storm shrugged. “The bathroom. Do we need your permission, Mr. Dominant Zombie-boy, to take a piss?”

Something felt wrong about Cutter’s absence. Alex stalked out the door and into the first bathroom he came across. He found Cutter with a straight razor against his arm. Scars both tiny and long decorated his skin like some textured fabric.

“What the hell are you doing?” Without waiting for an answer, Alex grabbed Cutter by the hair and marched him out of the bathroom.

“No, don’t. I don’t want them to know. Storm already knows how stupid I am, but Uli hasn’t seen this, please. Please. I don’t want to upset them.”

Alex couldn’t even find words to respond to Cutter’s pleading. He continued the journey back to their borrowed room where they interrupted Storm hugging Uli and rubbing his back.

But Storm pulled away when he saw the position Alex had put Cutter in. “Get your fucking hands off…” Storm’s words died as he noticed the straight razor in Cutter’s other hand. “No.” Pain and betrayal bled into his words. “You said you’d stopped.” He slumped against the wall.

“I did.” Cutter dropped the razor to the floor. “I tried. I can’t.” Cutter turned toward Alex, or twisted around as much as the tight grip on his hair allowed, begging. “I’m sorry, don’t be mad at me.”

Finding his voice, Alex deepened it. “I’m mad at me, not you.” He stalked across the room, knowing he needed calm before handling Cutter’s cutting.

“Yes, sir.”

Storm and Uli rushed to comfort Cutter, but Alex stepped in front of them. “No, he’s got issues and he needs help dealing with them, but this was pure thoughtlessness on his part. Don’t reward him. He was selfish. He wasn’t thinking of either of you or me.” Alex cupped Storm’s and Uli’s faces and pressed a soft kiss to each of their mouths. “This is going to be difficult. Take care of each other while I take care of Cutler.”

Uli and Storm nodded their agreement, but their indecision showed on their faces. “I got this. Promise.” This was everything he prepared for but hoped he’d never have to implement so seriously. He ambled over to the fridge in the corner and concentrated on his breathing.

“Anyone else need water?” After the others shook their heads, he slowly drank the water. He wasn’t thirsty, but he concentrated on the cool liquid flowing down his throat. His anger at not recognizing the signs of how Cutter might handle the stress of the evening dissipated.

He touched the face of Uli and finally Storm. He lingered with Storm for a moment because the man leaned into his hand as if admitting his need. Alex smiled briefly.

Alex listened to his boots click on the floor. He was a head taller than Cutter. “Tell me, did the clinic fail completely, or was this a slipup?”

“I don’t know.” The honest desperation tore at Alex’s heart.

“Do you want help?” After an eager nod, Alex explained, “You’ll work with a therapist?”

“Um, a…”

Storm burst out, “Do it, Cut.”

Uli added a soft “Please. For us.”

Alex stopped any further pleas. “No, he can’t do this for us. He needs to do it to for himself. Do you want this for you, Cutler?”

“I want to…but sometimes everything feels so big…” Cutter’s hair covered his face as his eager nod turned into a shrug of what appeared to be learned helplessness.

Alex tugged the long-sleeved shirt up over both of Cutter’s elbows. “Take a good look. You don’t deserve this. Do you?”

Cutter stared up at him with tears in his eyes.

“You will
not
treat our mates like this ever again.”
No more.
“When you can’t handle the stress and feel like hurting yourself, come to me. I’ll give you what you need.”

Cutter shivered, but his eyes heated.

“Eventually, we’ll alter your need from wanting to be hurt to wanting to use the pain as a method to fly.” Alex circled Cutler once, taking in every part of his distraught mate. “I don’t want you hurting yourself. You’ll give me that control.”

Cutter shifted as he groaned. “Yes, Alex. I want that.” He exhaled and transferred his gaze to his other two mates. “I’m sorry.”

Uli opened his mouth to say something but Storm kissed him quiet.

“Undress, Cutler. My anger and frustration have subsided. First, you’ll get your pain, but I’ll take you past your misery to a better place.”

“Yes, sir.” With trembling hands, Cutter took off everything, folded each piece of clothing carefully, and set them on the chair.

“Very nice, Cutler.” His little mate beamed with the praise. “Over to the bench.” Alex directed him to a padded bench with a hole cut out.

“Sir?” Cutter asked as he pointed to the flat surface.

“Put your shaft through the opening.” He’d gotten more comfortable using non-clinical words to describe male parts, but he still had to work on his terminology. This was not the time to practice or to be unsure. Alex guided Cutter over the bench so he was straddling the leather bed. Cutter lay forward to push his cock through the hole as he straightened his legs.

Alex checked on his other mates. Uli and Storm were off to the side watching the proceedings while holding each other’s hands.

“This won’t be like the birthday spanking.” The event seemed so long ago, but barely a day had passed. “You’ll get far more than twenty-one spanks.” Alex meandered over to the cabinet. He opened the door and ran his fingers over each implement in turn. The strength of all the other Doms who’d used this room seemed to cling to the objects of pleasure/pain. After careful consideration, he chose a simple but painful device.

He strutted back over to the bench, allowing his training, study, and hard work to give him the confidence he needed to begin exchanging Cutler’s dependence on cutting to other coping mechanisms through therapy and support. Then they would be free to explore BDSM without his self-injurious habit warping the experience into something less than positive. Alex slapped the crop against his own leg, making Uli jump and Cutter wince. Ah, but they’d learn.

“Ready?” Alex asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Alex answered Cutter’s agreement by the first slap of leather.

“No!” Uli yelled, as if he were being struck.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Alex put a hand on Cutter’s back. “I’m sorry for the disruption, Cutler.” Then he turned toward Uli who was being held back by a resolute Storm. “Uli, honey.” Gently he stroked the man’s soft cheek. “I must do this. Cutler is desperate for me to tend to him. I need you to let me.” Though the blond’s teeth were clenched, a slight head nod was given. Alex studied Storm for a moment before directing him. “Storm, please distract Uli pleasantly so I may give Cutler what he needs.”