Chapter 1: In The Company Of Dire Crookeds
Mobile Home 4, Ceder Creek Trailer Park, Bushwah, Kansas...
Loud music had been a constant within the dreary place of residence for a lone sixteen-year-old blond lad with pale blue eyes and a thin build that didn't look particularly healthy no matter what outfit he had managed to scrape together. The time of night had never seemed to matter to the lad's father, the resident town drunk and his major aggressive issues had been almost as constant as the noise coming from their modest dark brown trailer. They had lived in the most beat-up one on the lot and everyone had known them from the look of them even when they had gone into town for supplies or a means of escape from one another. In the beginning, there had been three of them, but the lad's mother had her fill of life with her abusive drunk and she high-tailed it as soon as she had the chance leaving behind her only son at the mercy of his so-called father.
Clint Hudson had been the gruffest resident at Cedar Creek and everyone steered clear of him and his boy, young Dean Hudson, aptly named for his mother's favorite old-time movie star. Dean himself had not seen what was so special about being named after a long-dead movie star whose films he had never even watched before but his mother had thought it wonderful. The name itself had not been much of a hassle so much as his mother walking out the door without him and never looking back.
The bitterness of that day still lingered something heavy as Dean found himself resentful of her and her choices more often than not. With her gone, the chores had gone to him, the yelling had been directed to him, the beatings had been on him and when his father had been well and truly drunk or high from the illegal coke he'd been getting supplied outside of town, there had been other things that had been relegated to Dean that he had been rather disgusted with having to endure.
Despite the implication of his first name, Dean had not been popular either at school or among the youths in the trailer park. He had spent more time getting chased and beaten for his non-existent lunch money or due to his face making someone angry according to the bullies that saw to do him harm as if his life had not been difficult enough. Dean weathered the storm day in and day out taking what little peace he could find when his father wasn't home or when school let out.
He'd been an avid reader, a rather cheap hobby due to the local library and the books available at school. Only Clint had been allowed to watch television and only Clint had access to the remote. Dean would have been lucky if he had gotten a full meal in the wake of his father's constantly getting laid off or fired for his inappropriate conduct at work.
School for Dean had not been any better, he'd been the butt of many jokes and a good deal of bullies had taken an interest in making his already miserable life all the more miserable just for the sake of a few laughs. They had teased him to no end about his clothes, which had been something he threw on that his father managed to steal or leave behind long enough to be washed, always a size too big on his thin pale frame and always baggy.
Dean had mostly kept to himself outside of a few classmates who knew his name, they had not been friends perse but they were decent to him when it counted. The lad lacked social skills due to his upbringing and the tumultuous things in his household. Being the talk of the town in the worst way possible from his father's drunken exploits to his mother walking out on them for good, he'd been the subject of much gossip but nothing compared to his closely guarded secret and the real reason for his father's rage at having him for a son.
Dean had been born quite different than many of his peers, no doctors had been able to pinpoint exactly how or why other than the possibility of his mother's recreational drug use being the cause while he was developing in the womb, they called it intersex, as he had all the necessary chromosomes, but lacked the distinction between them for a time. It had been even worse when puberty came around and he'd been more or less delayed.
Being smaller than a lot of his classmates had been their favorite reason for bullying him no matter how many years passed and he advanced grade levels. Then one morning he awoke and his chest had been changed due to a mild case of gynecomastia but his average-sized cock had been well aware of the wet dreams he'd been having. He never took his shirt off as a result and tried his best to hide the fact that he'd had small tits like a flat-chested girl or a rotund child lacking discipline with food.
Dean mostly kept to himself as his hormones became more rampant causing him to get hard at the worst possible times or leak from between his thighs due to his hidden vagina whenever he'd been aroused. He had been secretly infatuated with the boys and girls that surrounded him at school and began sneaking his father's dirty magazines and blue movies to get a hold of all the hormonal chaos.
The worst of it had been when the bleeding came, he had been completely caught off guard to awaken from a long night's sleep to find his bed covered in blood. He had initially believed he'd been injured until the source made no sense. His mother had been kind enough to explain the situation and the possibility of it having happened before his father got home and managed to get him on birth control pills, which had been more than enough of an embarrassing experience for a young man such as himself to have to shop for.
Dean in the present had been attempting to make his way out of the window of his bedroom so as to avoid the numerous bodies that had been laid out in his living room as a result of the loud music from the party that had taken place the night before due to his so-called father's "guests" getting rowdy. Despite a darkened sky and a lingering early morning breeze, the blond lad hopped outside and slowly made his way toward the bus stop hoping to be as far away from the house before the bastard that had been his old man woke up.