Schism

Hello friends. This is part one of a three part story, with the second part already half written at the time of submitting this.

Warning: This story contains non-consent/reluctance and bdsm content.

The story: Dane identifies as straight, but has dissociative identity disorder, with his alter, Edan, forcing him into servicing men for its amusement.

Tags: #bdsm, #reluctance, #non consent, #bondage, #slavery, #control, #dominance and submission, #horror, #coming out, #first time, #anal virgin

Shout out to DeathAndTaxes and Amory Parks for beta reading and providing suggestions, and to DeathAndTaxes for editing (any typos you find in the following were made after her edits).

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My name is Dane. I'm a twenty-three year old straight guy from the South of England. Right now, I'm on my knees, servicing some leather-clad, hairy gay man, whose beard looks like a 1970s porn star's pubic bush, cursing myself to fuck and back. Because I didn't come here, to this back-country sex party. And I sure as fuck didn't get down on my knees and take this man's sweaty cock in my mouth after half a dozen beers, and what feels like half an E.

No. Edan did that, because Edan's a fucking whore, with a black sense of humour, and he hates me.

My name is Dane, and this is a story about how I discovered I have dissociative identity disorder, and that my other half—I wish that were a joke—is the biggest arsehole you've ever met, and he lives inside my head.

*

I was nineteen when Edan first turned up. Those of you who're observant, will notice my 'other half' did the imaginative thing, and rearranged the letters of my name to make his own. Edan, as it turns out, is a Celtic name, meaning 'fire'. Ironically, Dane is an English name, meaning brook. Fire and Water. Edan has such a fucking sense of humour.

It started small, as others have told me has been the same for them. Small patches of missing time. Cuts and bruises appearing, with no idea how I'd got them. And then, not long after my twenty-third birthday, phone calls and texts, from people asking for 'Edan', wanting to hook up.

Again.

At first, I thought someone had left my number on a toilet stall wall somewhere. Probably an ex-girlfriend. For some reason (thanks again, Edan), I seemed to go through quite a few. They rarely told me why they were breaking up with me, just broke off all contact. And when they did stick around long enough to give me a reason, none of what they said made much sense, and I chalked it down to the general insanity of women.

As it turned out, they weren't the insane ones.

So, I changed my number, thinking that would be the end of the odd messages. But no. I'd had my new SIM for less than a week, when another text arrived for 'Edan'.

Only two people had my number at that point. My best mate, Martin, and my parents. I count my parents as one unit, since my Dad never did learn how to use his mobile phone, and once landlines became obsolete due to the cost of calling cellphones, he relied on my Mum to contact the outside world.

I went round to Martin's house and banged on the door.

He answered wearing a sweat-stained singlet and a pair of sweatpants, and looked as if he'd been working out in the basement. He kept a weights set down there, and was obsessed with building up his 'guns'.

"Hey, mate, it's late. What are you doing here?"

I held out my phone, displaying the latest text for 'Edan'. It read,

'Hey baby, luved ur mouth on my cock last night. Can't wait 2 c u again! xx'

It was signed, 'Ray'.

"What the motherfucking fuck, Marty!" I said. "I just got this number, and you've already handing it out to whoever this comedian is?"

He took the phone from me and made a face that looked a lot like he was... and yeah, there it was. Like he was about to burst out laughing.

He handed the phone back to me. "Your alter ego catching up with you, mate?"

I frowned at him. "What are you on about?"

"Your alter-ego.

Edan.

" He said the name in this sing-song voice that, at the time, made no sense to me.

"Mate, I honestly have no fucking clue what you're on about."

"Edan. The guy who likes to suck cock?" he said. He was losing the mocking lilt to his voice as he saw my extremely bothered expression.

"Why am I getting messages for some guy called 'Edan', who likes to suck cock?"

He went pale.

"You mean it, don't you? You have no idea. Jesus Christ, please tell me you weren't off your face every time? Please tell me I didn't rape you."

My mouth dropped open. I stared at him, feeling the world lurch. The words 'rape' and 'you', were not words I ever expected to hear in a sentence directed at me.

Seeing my face, he said, "Fuck. You'd better come in."

He put an arm around my shoulders and guided me into the house.

As we stepped into the hallway I sniffed at him, inhaling his funk deep into my lungs. Christ, what was I doing? He smelled ripe as fuck, and I was sucking down his stink like he was baked goods fresh out of the oven.

"You like that?" he said.

I made a face and shook my head.

"You smell disgusting, mate."

He looked taken aback.

"You've never complained before. Okay, well, why don't you head up to my room, while I take a shower?"

For a moment I had an urge to ask him not to, but the images that flashed behind my eyes,

...his thick, sweaty cock and his heavy ballsack draped across my face, the stink of male musk, that faint whiff of piss...

... made me want to heave.

I sat on Martin's unmade bed, and picked idly at what looked like a patch of spilt mayonnaise on his sheets, thinking,

This guy. This guy needs to stop eating in bed.

And then I peered at it a bit closer. And by the time he came back from the shower, wrapped in a towel, I was nuzzling that patch of mayonnaise and licking at it like a dog.

"Dane!" He pulled me upright, and my eyes opened wide. I realised what I'd been doing, and did not, for one second, understand how I'd come to be doing it. Dane is not an idiot. But when Edan's in control, Dane is fucking brain damaged.

"What were you doing?" he asked.

"Finding out wherever there is comfort, there is cum?" I said, my voice loaded with disgust. But secretly, only at myself.

He sat down beside me, mercifully covering the damp patch I'd left on his filthy sheets.

He gave me a worried look. "So, how much of the last month do you remember?"

"Define 'the last month'," I said. I remembered quite a bit of the last month, but none of it included him 'raping' me, drunk or otherwise.

"Oh fuck," he said. "Fuck."

He got up again, and walked in a circle, a hand gripping the hair at the back of his head. He turned back to me, still wearing only a towel.

"This can't be happening."

"Martin," I said. "What can't be happening?"

If this was a joke, he was taking it way too far.

"Okay." He put his hands on his hips. "Okay. Fuck."

"Look mate," I said to him. "I'm sure whatever it is, it can't be that bad if I don't remember it."

He shook his head. "That's just it! I don't see how you don't remember! Fuck!"

I got up and approached him, and he shrank away from me. I'm not a big guy—just on five ten, around a hundred and forty pounds, and usually weigh less than my girlfriends (I like girls who can pin me down in a wrestling match from time to time). When I bulk up, I'm up around one-fifty-four, but at this point in my life, I was a PlayStation junkie who couldn't afford haircuts, living off Pot Noodles.

But despite my size, when I'm pissed off, people tend to get out of my way. I think they sense Edan's in there. Something off-kilter. Something not quite right.

Martin put up his hands. "Dane, don't do anything stupid. It was an accident!"

"Stop pissing about and tell me

what

was an accident!"

I had him up against the wall now, and he was breathing hard. He looked as if he might be about to cry.

"Okay. Look, please don't freak out." He put his hands out again, almost touching my chest, but not quite, and I stepped back and gave him some space. "About three weeks ago, you sent me a text saying you were super horny. You wanted to get together to watch some porn you'd found. I asked for a link, and you said no, you had it on your hard drive, and it was amazing."

I stared at him. As far as I was concerned, none of this had happened.

"When I got to your place, your flatmates said you were in your room. I knocked, and you said 'come in', and I did, and you were on your bed, naked, jacking yourself."

"So, you turned round and left? Marty? So you turned around, and left. Yeah?"

He shook his head, still looking mortified. "I mean, I was there to see this amazing porn, right? And it's not like I haven't seen your John Thomas before."

I blinked. I'd never heard him call it

that

before.

"So, I came in, you put on your amazing porn, which happened to be a fit bloke sucking off another fit bloke, and I sat on your computer chair and stared at it. And then I stared at you. And you gave me this... this look."

He let out a shuddering breath.

"This fucking 'come fuck me' look that made me instantly go hard. And then, you said, and I'll never forget this—you said, 'Do you want me to do that to you?'. And then, you did."

"And then, I did," I repeated back at him in a dull voice.

"Yeah." He nodded. "And I swear, I swear, if I'd known you were on something, I never would have. But you didn't seem like you were fucked up."

"Except for the whole 'wanting to suck your dick' thing."

"Yeah, except for that."

I grew aware that the fuck had an erection right now, as we were speaking. And a second later, I realised I had one too.

"So, what you're telling me is that I've sucked your dick?"

"A few times, yeah."

I closed my eyes, fighting down a flood of unwelcome emotion. There was what you'd expect—disgust, horror, surprise. But there was also the very unwelcome desire to do what he was describing. Again, apparently.

"Dane, you've got to believe me—"

"I believe you!" I said. I walked backwards to his bed and sat down heavily. I glanced up at him. "But what's 'Edan' got to do with all this?"

He made a face that told me he really,

really

didn't want to tell me.

"Spit it out," I said.

"Why? You don't," he said.

"Fuck, Marty, really? Could you not?"

He gave me a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sorry."

He came back to the bed and sat beside me again. "Okay, I've got no idea what's going on, but I'll tell you how it goes down. I come around. You're usually naked, looking at porn. One of the guys usually looks a bit like you. One of them usually looks a bit like me."

He gave me a wary look to see if I was going to attack him, but I was beyond that. I was in shock.

"I come around, we watch porn for a bit, then you suck me off."

"And Edan?"

"Well, while you're doing it, you ask me to call you Edan."

"I ask you to..."

"Well. You call yourself Edan. And if I call you 'Dane', you correct me."

"I see."

I did not fucking see at all.

"Wait—do you actually suck me off too? Or is this all a one-way thing?"

He shrugged. "I'm not gay, mate. I just figured you were, and this was how you were getting it out of your system until you worked up the courage to come out."

I took in a deep breath and let it out again. "You're not gay... but you don't mind a man sucking you off?"

He shrugged again. "You're my mate. I'm happy to help you out."

I sat very still for a bit, containing my rage. But the fact was, whether or not he returned the favour, there was still the question of why I didn't remember sucking him off in the first place. And what was all this bollocks about calling myself 'Edan'?

"So," he asked gently. "Were you drunk or something all those times? Have I done something really bad?"

I shook my head. "No. I don't think so. I don't have enough cash to get

that

boozed. Besides, surely you'd be able to tell if I was off my tits?"

"So—?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea."

I glanced sideways at him, and there was his erection, tenting the towel. Apparently his fear of having raped me hadn't turned him off in the slightest.

And then, at the back of my head, there was this voice laughing at me. Like some maniac was lodged back there in the dark, enjoying a good joke.

Edan.

I got to know his voice well over the next few years. Learned how it felt to have him come into my body, the way the many men he seduced and offered my body to, did.

But that night, all I knew was that strange things were happening inside me. Things I wasn't in control of, and apparently couldn't remember.

"You ah... you look a bit Edan now," said Martin, and I could see the thought excited him.

His breathing sped up as I looked at him. Was I giving him that look he said I'd given him before? A 'come fuck me' look, whatever that was? All I knew was that he seemed to think something good was about to happen.

I was in my body, but I wasn't thinking clearly as I got to my feet. I stood in front of him and he spread his legs wide, leaning back on his hands. The movement caused the towel to come loose, and he tugged it open with one hand so his stiff cock was free, then leaned back on his hands again.

His eyes locked to mine, his excitement evident from his massive fucking erection, precum already welling from the swollen tip.

"Dane?" he said breathlessly. "Do you really want to do this?"

When I answered him, the voice that came out of my mouth was mine... but the words were formed by someone else.

"Don't be stupid." I gave him a lazy smile. "You know I can't get enough of your cock."

Well. It was nearly my voice. But there was an edge to it. It was similar to the way I dirty-talked my girlfriends; only this was my best mate.

Marty gave a shaky sigh of relief.

"Thank God. You had me going there for a minute." He laughed nervously. "I should have known you were just after some late-night roleplay. You're such a freak."

I glanced up and caught a glimpse of myself in the dark slit of glass visible between the curtains. I didn't look like myself. I looked... different. I hadn't realised how I'd dressed myself before I'd come to his house. My hair hit my shoulders, but I'd styled it. My top didn't quite meet my skinny jeans, and I was wearing... jewellery. When had I gotten my ears pierced? How had I not noticed that? Come to think of it, when had I bought a fucking crop-top?

I gave myself this contemptuous, self-satisfied look, and then sank to my knees between Martin's spread legs.

He leaned even further back as I took his cock in one hand and started to stroke it.

Outwardly, I was a guy seducing his friend. Inside, I was petrified, struggling against the alien presence that had taken over my body.

Edan's voice sounded inside my head.

'Dane, Dane, Dane, you straight-acting fuckboy! Better buckle up and enjoy yourself! There's plenty more where this came from!'

And with that, it was as if a massive hand landed on the back of my head, pushing my face towards Martin's solid flesh.

I couldn't speak. Edan had control of my vocal chords, and all I could do was let out a choking noise of disgust, as he pressed my closed lips against the tip of Martin's penis and painted them with precum.

The taut, smooth feel of Marty's flesh, and the stickiness coating my lips, should have been a foreign sensation, but it felt horribly familiar. I couldn't remember where I'd felt it. I only knew that I had.

"Fuck, Dane, enough of the foreplay! Stop teasing me and suck it!"

Martin was not helping.

Edan grinned inside my head, and I parted my lips, taking that round, hard head into my mouth. I'd never felt another sensation like it, that turgid flesh resting on my tongue. I was aware of how sensitive it was and how careful I needed to be to be, even as I screamed internally that I was on the absolute wrong end of tonguing a cock.

Martin was cut, and his flared tip was far harder than mine felt when I played with myself. He was a bit longer than me, but both of us were above average. He was also thicker than me, especially that bruised-coloured head. Since I wasn't used to having anything like that in my mouth, I immediately felt it in my jaw as I hinged it open and started licking his knob, swirling my tongue around the hard ridge of flesh, tasting him.

At the back of my skull, Edan whispered,

'Usually we don't let him shower first'.

I shuddered. In that moment, I felt true hatred for the demented prick I shared my body with.

Maybe, I thought, as I got Martin's knob nice and shiny, I had a conjoined twin, lodged like a tumour in my brain. A second mind, capable of wresting control of the body completely, or forcing me to ride as a passenger while he turned me into a cock-hungry manslut.

'Okay Dane, down we go!'

Edan's voice was full of glee as I opened my mouth wider, and proceeded to turn my face into a cunt for Martin's cock.

As Dane, I had no idea how to give a blowjob, beyond what I liked done to me. A cliché, but a true one.

With Edan driving, I had

ideas.

I got Martin's prick as wet as possible while he moaned above me, slowly moving further and further down with each slide up and down his cock, until the tip of him brushed against the back of my throat.

I wanted to back off, but Edan was cumming in his metaphorical pants. He held me there, the back of my tongue massaging Martin's big, round knob, as surely as if I had a hand jamming me in place.

And then he pushed me down further.

To my surprise, I didn't gag. Instead, I took Martin into my throat. Not far. But far enough to want to throw up from the sheer sensation of being on my knees, gulping down another man's prick. He wasn't even making me do it. No, Marty was lying back on his elbows, his eyes closed in ecstasy, while I set about pleasuring him.

Edan, who I could now see as a pair of eyes and a set of grinning teeth in my mind's eye, was overjoyed.

'I wasn't sure you'd be able to do it, straight-boy. I thought you'd be puking your guts out about now. But something tells me we're not so different.'

I tried to say, 'get fucked' around Marty's cock, but it was unintelligible, and Marty just moaned at the vibrations and the movement of my throat around him.

Edan briefly let me up, and I slid as far off Marty's cock as I could, before another internal shove buried my nose in my best mate's trimmed pubic hair.

Edan held my head down as far as it would go, and I felt moisture from the crease where Marty's cock joined his groin dampen the end of my nose. At least he was clean. The only scent he had now was of soap, and the faint smell of his skin.

Christ, why was part of me disappointed?

"Fuck, Dane, you're amazing!"

I wanted to shout at him that it wasn't me. But the fact was, I was very much in the room.

'And look, straight-boy. You're pitching a pavillion.'

Edan had me slide back off Marty's cock, leaving sticky fluid all over it, then had me lick it clean, before deep throating him again.

Then, when Marty was moaning and panting like he was ready to burst, Edan pulled my head off his cock.

What now?

I thought.

Edan answered.

'Taste his balls. I want this to last.'

I later learned that we were doing things out of order, so Edan could see what he could make me do against my will, with me fully conscious. But since no girlfriend of mine had ever done much with my balls, other than play with them when I asked her to, I had no idea what he wanted me to do.

He showed me.

"Oh fuck, stop fucking about and just finish me!" moaned Marty, but Edan was having none of it.

He had me grip Marty's cock with one hand and pull it upward, then had me dip my head to explore his tucked-tight nutsack.