Get The Feeling
by David Heulfryn
My lab partner, and friend, screamed at me as I clutched my hand and swore at the searing pain that felt like the skin was being peeled off.
I watched Markus as he tried to clamp the conical flask that was sitting on the tripod, beneath it the Bunsen burner was lit and on its coldest orange flame. He struggled to tighten the rusted clamp and must have gripped too hard as the whole loose assembly tipped over and his right hand plunged towards the flame. He yelled and instantly brought his hand close and covered it with his other.
What made matters worse was that I did the same. I felt the burn as clearly as Markus did and reacted in the same fashion.
“Are you taking the fucking piss!” He yelled at me as the teacher came racing over, turned on the water in a nearby sink and told him to run his hand under the cold water.
Markus glowered at me as the water temporarily soothed his pain.
“What about you, Sam?” The teacher looked at me.
“I was nowhere near the Bunsen, Sir.”
His face grew angry, and he ordered me into the back office. I sat there for twenty minutes, waiting and trying to hear what was going on in the lab but only hear muffled voices and no words.
I stood up as Mr Wilkinson opened the door. “If what you did was supposed to be funny, then no-one is laughing.” He closed the door and walked over to me. “We’ve just sent Markus off to A&E as it is a very nasty burn.”
“Is he alright?” I asked and was genuinely concerned.
“We hope so, we hope so indeed. But you are a different matter.”
“I can explain, Sir.” I pleaded. “It’s not what you think.”
He was sceptical at first, but I managed to persuade him that I wasn’t making fun of Markus. Before I went on to my next class, I made sure that he would not let anybody else know, I didn’t want my classmates to know as I felt sure that they would take advantage of it and have a little fun of their own.
I’d not heard from Markus by the end of the day, and he wasn’t answering his mobile phone. I let my mum know that I was going round to see him and caught the bus. I had no idea if he was still at the hospital or if they’d discharged him, but if he was at home and ignoring me, then I figured he couldn’t ignore me if I was on his doorstep.
I was a little nervous when I knocked and was greeted by Markus’ mother.
“I’m just seeing if Markus is alright after his accident.”
“Hold on.” She turned to the foot of the stairs and called up to him. “Markus! Sam’s here to see you.”
“Tell him to fuck off and die.” He yelled down from his bedroom.
“I will do no such thing and mind your language, Young Man.” She turned to me and said. “He’s still a bit upset at you making fun of him. It was a very nasty burn, you know.” She frowned at me.
“I know, and I wasn’t. I Promise. I just want to explain it to him.”
She let me in and told me to go up and see him.
Markus was lying on his bed watching television. His hand was tightly bandaged and was resting at his side.
“I thought I told you to fuck off.” He kept his voice down, making sure that his mother didn’t hear him.
I closed the door behind me and sat by his desk where he had just dumped his bag with his textbooks and folder half fallen out. “I know, but I want to explain something, and I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” I nodded to his bandaged hand, which he lifted slightly and looked at it in response.
“It’ll be alright. I won’t need a graft or anything. I just need to change the dressing regularly and keep it dry.”
“Good. For how long?”
“At least a week, probably two they say.”
“Look, Markus, I need to explain what happened. I wasn’t taking the piss or anything like that.”
“Well, it sure looked as if you were.”
“I know, but the thing is,” I paused and took a breath, “I’m a mirror-touch synaesthete.”
“What the fuck is that!”
“A synaesthete is someone who has their senses mixed; some people can see smells or hear colours. I’m a touch synaesthete, I feel it when I see someone else touching, and I feel the pain when I see someone hurt themselves. I’ve been told it’s some sort of empathy and I am highly empathic.”
Markus looked confused. “Now you are taking the piss, aren’t you?”
He wasn’t sure, so I got him to boot up his laptop, and he started to Google.
“This is so weird.” He was astounded and curious. “Why didn’t you say anything to anybody?”
“Well, my family know, but I don’t say anything as people just don’t understand. And as you say, they think it’s weird. Also, I’m not having it all-round college as people will take the piss.”
“So, say I touch my arm.” He ran his finger down his bare forearm. “You can feel that.”
“Yep.”
“What if I do it behind my back?”
“That’s different. If I don’t know you’re doing it then I won’t feel it, it if you tell me you’re going to do it then I will, even if you don’t actually do it. I think you’re doing it and so I feel it.”
“So every day at college you’re feeling things when you see other students, say scratching their nose, a pat on the back or a squeeze of a shoulder.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Whoa! It’s no wonder you don’t want that all-round college, they’ll torture you by doing it all the time. It must be hell to be feeling this all the time when you don’t want to.”
“I’ve lived with it for seventeen years, so you pretty much get used to it.”
My secret was now out, but I could trust Markus not to put it around college, and it was pretty much forgotten about. There wasn’t any need to mention it, it isn’t like a noticeable disability, and I like to think of it as an invisible gift, so I was exactly like them to the outside world.
The days must have dragged by for Markus. He grew frustrated at not being able to use his hand properly.
“I can’t write, type, eat, drink or even wash properly.” He would complain. But it was his next admission that amused me. “I can’t even have a wank anymore.”
I burst out laughing when he said that but he was deadly serious.
“I’ve tried using my left hand, but it’s just not the same, it’s odd, and I can’t do it properly.”
“If this is your way of getting me to give you a hand job then forget it.”
“Oh, fuck off!” He laughed and then grinned at me. “You wouldn’t would you?”
“Now, you fuck off!” And we both ended up in hysterics.
The day his bandages finally came off, Markus smirked at me and said, “That’s a relief, in more ways than one.”
He showed me his hand, the skin on the top and near the base of his fingers was red and fresh, but as long as he didn’t stretch it too much, then he didn’t feel pain anymore.
Now that his hand was free and working again, he decided to get his own back on me.
We were sitting at the back of the lab and enduring a boring Chemistry lecture on bonds and molecular structure when Markus nudged my arm.
“I’m horny.” He whispered, but I ignored him and carried on making notes.
“Look.” He nudged me again, and I watched as I saw him slip his hand into his trousers and I could see his fingers moving underneath, feeling his cock.
My own dick jumped as if I felt his hand on it. “Oh, don’t.” I groaned, but he didn’t stop, and my dick went rock hard with the feel of his hand rubbing up and down.
I tried to ignore him and concentrate on the lesson, but my dick kept twitching as his invisible hand stroked me and my eyes were drawn back to his crotch.
Markus pulled his hand free and traced his fingers down either side of his cock, so it showed through his trousers. It looked long and thick as it clung to his right thigh, pointing down his leg. With the palm of his hand, Markus stroked his cock up and down through the fabric. It made my dick pound with my heartbeat, and he smiled at me as I squirmed on my lab stool. I let out a silent groan as my dick pumped out pre-cum and dampened my briefs. The cool pre-cum and cotton briefs now rubbed against my knob which had emerged from my foreskin.
I wanted to scream and whip my dick out to wank myself to orgasm, but I had to keep a lid on it, and it was killing me. The entire class was oblivious to what was happening to me, and Markus just sat there with a wicked smile, his hand rubbing that solid tube of flesh through his trousers while looking at the teacher as he droned on.
Looking down at my obscene bulge, I noticed a tiny damp spot and I knew that if I blew, I would make a huge mess that everyone could see. I got scared as I knew I was going to blow soon if Markus didn’t stop. And Markus was relentless, his hand stroking his cock got faster, but it appeared to have little effect on him. But it had the desired effect on me. My dick felt red raw and began to throb uncontrollably. I felt my balls pull sharply inside me and I let out a long, loud groan as my dick erupted and spewed cum into my briefs.
“Sam! What’s going on back there?” The teacher shouted at me.
I fumbled my words as I came down from the high of my orgasm. “Um… Um. Nothing, Sir. I just got a bit of cramp. But it’s alright now.”
“Good!” He was annoyed at the interruption and carried on with his boring lesson.
I scowled at Markus who tried to repress a giggle, and I saw the huge wet patch on my trousers; it looked like I’d peed myself. My cum had soaked my dick and balls, making them itch, but I couldn’t scratch. I checked out Markus’ crotch but could not see his hard cock anymore.
“You bastard!” I said through gritted teeth.
“That was amazing,” Markus whispered. “I had no idea that would happen.”
“Neither did I.” We smiled at each other. I think both of wanted to try it again.
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A horny read with a sly concept that will be hard to eradicate from the wank bank…. x
Awesome story. I loved it.