NOTE: Story features slightly coercive femdom, bondage, and humiliation. It also includes stalking and bullying in a clearly negative view.
*****
Driving back home, for the first time in over a decade, felt like staring down a shotgun.
Caleb had more than a few regrets from his childhood. Abused by his mother, neglected by his father, and bullied by his peers for being both a late-bloomer and poorly socialized, he'd developed some serious issues. This had manifested as being that creepy kid- the one with poor hygiene who gawks at the pretty girls and, to his great shame, turns a genuine offer of friendship into an excuse to stalk and torment those of the opposite sex.
Caleb was thrown out of high school his sophomore year, and then out of the house. Thankfully his aunt had taken him in, spent two years undoing the damage of his parents, and pushed him to succeed. Caleb was smart, Aunt Patty was dedicated, and one GED, two years of community college, and four years at state school later, he graduated with an honors physical therapy degree.
He'd also dedicated himself to improving in other ways. At age 16 he'd FINALLY had the growth spurt he needed, and learned around the same time that the best way to channel the anger and fear of his past trauma was to work out. Aunt Patty also introduced him to the wonders of soap, facial cleanser, and shampoo.
So it was that the kid who was once considered to be a shoo-in for the next Columbine grew into the sweet, hunky guy at the sports medicine office who all the college girls with torn ligaments lusted after.
Caleb didn't take advantage of this, though- neither when they were his patients for obvious reasons, nor when his friends dragged him out to bars on the weekend. The whole thing- dating, sex, whatever- PETRIFIED Caleb. Oh, he wanted it all right- he thought about it all the time. But as soon as it became clear that a woman was interested in being more than just friends, he froze up. His mind would race, the panic would rise, and instead of whoever he was with, the only face he could see was the terrified one of a 15 year old Amber Hendricks.
Amber wasn't one of the coolest girls in school. In fact, she was one of the loser kids- awkward, chubby, and painfully shy. She'd moved to his town in middle school, when most friendships had already been forged long ago, and made the regrettable decision on her first day to sit at Caleb's lunch table.
Amber was kind, if awkward, and even once she made other friends she still tried to get Caleb involved. Indeed, first semester of his freshman year was the closest thing he had to friends as a kid- Amber's geeky, poorly-washed circle made a real effort to include him. But they also picked up on his growing obsession with Amber.
Young Caleb had asked Amber out, and she had very gently declined. But instead of letting it drop, he decided he was "friend-zoned" and kept pursuing her. After a few months of asking him to back off, Amber's friends had ganged up on him and would physically bar him from approaching her. He would get into fights with them, and he racked up a couple suspensions over it. So he started stalking her outside of school- even watching her sleep.
It all came to a head early into his sophomore year when he broke into her house while her parents were away for the weekend, and hid in her closet with a bouquet of flowers. At the time, he'd genuinely thought this was the grand romantic gesture he needed to convince her they would be together forever. She had... disagreed. And the terrified look on her face when he emerged was burned into his subconscious.
Looking back now, Caleb was mostly grateful he'd not been arrested. Amber's family had settled for expulsion and a restraining order. Moving him to Aunt Patty's, two states away, had been very effective. But it also meant that he had never had a chance to apologize to her. Even after the restraining order had expired, he respected it, and never looked her up. She was just this figure in his mind, this horrible specter of all his regrets and fears about who he was and what he could do at his worst.
So Caleb, despite his good looks, good job, and friendly demeanor, was a 26 year old virgin, much to the concern of his friends, his therapist, and even his aunt, who had tried to set him up with someone more than once.
--
When Patty called him to tell him his mother had died, Caleb didn't know what to do. He didn't regret her death- they'd met and healed the bridge as best they could when she was diagnosed with cancer. But his mother was to be buried in her plot back in his home town, and as her only child, he was needed at the funeral.
"I haven't been back home since..." He sighed. Patty, in the passenger seat, gripped his arm. "It'll be okay."
"It'll be HARD. I've had time to come to grips with Mom's death, but I don't know how I can handle seeing Deatsville again."
"Don't worry about running into them. Honestly, Caleb, you're barely recognizable."
His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. She had a point. His hair was the same dark brown, but while then it had been greasy and floppy, now it was silky and shining, kept short and neatly styled. When he'd left, he'd barely had peach fuzz, but now a well-trimmed dark beard framed his face. And his body, of course...
"People will know, though. What if someone comes to the funeral?"
Patty sighed and looked out the window. "Honey, I know you love your mom, but... I wouldn't expect a big crowd."
--
She was right. All told, the wake was just himself, his dad, Patty, his mother's brother he barely knew, and his grandparents from both sides. Thankfully everyone had anticipated this, and the room in the funeral parlor was mercifully tiny. Caleb privately wondered why they'd even done a wake, since everyone who was there would be there tomorrow for the funeral.
Near the end, he slipped out to go to the bathroom, and overheard two of the dark-suited parlor workers chatting.
"I haven't seen anyone who looked like him..."
"There's that young guy?"
"That CAN'T be him. A nephew or something."
"What kind of guy misses his mother's funeral?"
Following the voices, he poked his head around the corner to see Eric Haut and Aaron Beeker. His heart leapt into his chest.
"Uhm, hello..." Both men jumped. "Oh! Sorry, sir," Eric said. "Can I help you?"
Deep breath to steel himself. "You're Eric, right? Eric Haut?"
He knew the answer, of course. Eric still had the unmistakable crook in his nose from teenage Caleb's fist.
The other man stared at him. "Have we m- oh my god you ARE Caleb."
Aaron grimaced, and Caleb's heart sank to see him brace himself a little. His eyebrow still bore the unmistakable scar from a bad punch.
"Yeah... Hey, Eric, Aaron, I just wanted to say I'm so, so sorry."
Eric's jaw dropped a little. "Wha-"
"I was a dick. I was a terrible excuse for a human being. I've been regretting it for ten years." He breathed out heavily. "Damn, I really broke your nose, didn't I? I'm so sorry."
Eric and Aaron looked at each other in shock, then back to him.
"I- I have no idea what to say," Eric finally stammered out.
"It's okay. I don't need you to forgive me or anything. I can't undo it, any more than I can fix your nose. But as long as I'm in town, I wanted to say it."
Aaron spoke up. "Oh, man. Caleb. What the hell. Of course we forgive you. I'm sorry about your mom."
Caleb turned to him in surprise. "Wait, what?"
"Yeah, man, we forgave you years ago. Everyone knew you were suffering. I mean, after you left, Amber told us some of the shit you said to her all casually, like about your mom- oh, man, I'm sorry. I can't believe I said that, today."
Caleb smiled weakly. "It's okay. She and I made amends before she went."
