Category Linkin Park

God's plan by Silent_lucidity

Introduction - The urge -

Authors note: Everything about this story is fictional. Reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated.

First Chapter - Introduction; The urge -

He had become a history teacher due to his love for history, you’d think, but you’d be wrong.

Throughout all his life, people had always pressured him into a definite direction. His mother used to call it God’s virtuous plan. According to her elucidation of the bible, each person would get what he or she deserve. No such thing as immunity in the face of the lord, she used to warn every sinner that crossed her path. He had never complaint about this. If anything he’d even appreciated it. That way he never had to worry because everything could be considered God’s plan. The teacher grew up with great faith in this philosophy.

Of course that faith had been fragile at times. Especially when he suspected God’s plan to be rather unfair and not very well thought through. Nonetheless, it also had kept him sane. It had always been something to turn to in need and given him a lifetime of excuses. Everything he did, does and would do, was part of a bigger picture. It was important to always remember that.

As long as he could remember he had always wanted to become a High School teacher rather than a college professor. Those young people, not yet adults but no children either, had kept him youthfully. It had been a good choice, he thought whilst sitting on his desk looking at his current class. A room filled with juveniles, all feverishly awaiting to be released into the afternoon. Every second, a pair of eyes would lift up to the clock and turn back in utter disappointment.

His eyes wandered through his classroom and paused at the sight of two students.

One was half-Asian and a little reticent but bright nonetheless. He’d only ever speak up if he’d find the right words. His name was Michael Shinoda and the boy was quite a feast for the eyes with his natural pitch-black hair and those faint exotic features. A little too thin perhaps but then, he had just turned thirteen years old.

The other youngster was a Jewish boy named Bradford Delson. He was a little timid but just as appealing as Michael. His hair was curled, so chaotically curled, that his mother required him to cut it on a regular basis. Usually at the beginning of a new school year. He was a little more outgoing, a little more verbal and quite present in the classroom. The teacher suspected veiled insecurities due to Bradford’s penchant to act as the ‘classclown’.

They were friends. Close friends as it appeared. That was a bit of a problem for the teacher and the reason why he was scrutinizing them from the teacher’s lectern. He tried to figure out how close they really were. Would they share all their deepest secrets? Those thoughts, of course, weren’t appropriate during schooling and the teacher was aware of that. Conversely, he hadn’t expected that urge to be back so soon. Certainly not in association with his students. Yet, this Michael (his friends were calling him Mike) was someone special.

He watched them closely and noticed how Mike had his hands buried deeply into his pockets whilst Brad waggled them around in wild gestures. While the Jewish boy’s teen voice was loud and clear, Mike’s was more of a hush and barely audible. It was quite evident that he’d rather concentrate on the comic he had hidden on his lap under the desk than listening to his friend. His affection for Superheroes wasn’t unusual for a young man his age. His lack of social skills nothing too alarming. All in all Shinoda was a relatively normal young boy.

The teacher wondered if the young man had already reached puberty. Nowadays, in his opinion, the young ones seemed to develop scandalously early. The youngest in his classroom was twelve the oldest thirteen but the teacher had already confiscated; 1 Playboy Magazine, 3 Cell-phones containing sexually explicit scenes (one showed the rape of a woman), 10 illegally burned CD’s containing porn, a couple of condoms and a pair of black panties that, as he later found out, had belonged to Tony Meyer’s mother.

The teacher never tolerated such items and was sincerely outraged when he had first discovered them. It had shocked him to realize how weak the inhibition threshold of those young adolescents had become. They simply felt less shame than earlier generations and openly discussed sexual orientation, masturbation and contraception. He never liked that development. The teacher was sure that one fine day all of them would regret their precociousness. Obviously it was ruining the tenderness of a first love. Young lovers no longer slowly explored each other but barely sixteen-year-old teenage girls were demanding orgasms from their objects of affection.

In his own youth all sexual things had been hidden behind closed doors. Sinful acts such masturbation had been too delicate to verbalize. Especially when he had been near his catholic mother. Very early one the teacher had become convinced that she’d cut off his hand should she ever discover him giving himself pleasure. Luckily he had always been rather bright and was never caught.

His mother, whenever the topic of Sex would come up on TV, would switch the Channel. She never talked about those things and she would dismissively wave his hand whenever he tried to ask her vital questions. The subject had been thoroughly banned. In a brusquely way she’d cock her head and say, ‘Pray, son,’ because that had been her answer for everything.

His attempt to gain some insight as to why Father Gabriel seemed to be urging for a strange kind of physical contact failed because she wouldn’t permit such a conversation. The member of the clergy had been a respectful man. A man of God even, and therefore the teacher had not been allowed to doubt his actions. The minister’s reason, his mom had been sure, must have been utterly and unquestionably unadulterated.

The tutor had always listened closely to his mother; done everything she ever asked of him and eventually became a teacher. In his world, in his mind and in all of his life she had never given him reason to doubt. It was mostly why the Teacher, now in his late forties, was still visiting the exact same church. He was still confessing his sins to Father Gabriel. The Priest’s tangencies though, had fortunately stopped.

Quietly he kept watching Mike and Brad and how they communicated with each other. It pleased him to notice that Michael was rather inattentive. He was obviously living in own mind and showed no excitement. It was odd, considering that the summer break was only two weeks ahead. Something was obviously bothering the young man and it was evidently something he had kept for himself. Thus, had the teacher intrigued.

There had been other signs before. Signs that had triggered his curiosity. The educator had started to spot those signs a couple of weeks ago during ‘Parent day’. Most of the students had been standing close to their parents and had talked in undisciplined gestures. Shinoda, however, had been standing about two feet away from his parents, hands buried in his pockets and with his eyes on the ground.

His father was a skinny Asian man and his mother a fragile looking white woman with a high-pitched voice. Neither of them seemed truly connected to their spouse but only randomly bestowed him with a faint smile. They simply had nothing to say to each other. Mike was an average student with average grades and an outlook to be visiting an average college. He had never done anything remotely disturbing in school. Obviously he had never been taught how to open up to the world and therefore was quiet and if it weren’t for Brad occasionally pulling him into the spotlight, he’d be long forgotten.

The teacher had seen friendships like that before. It was a very common pattern and sometimes he believed it to be a natural instinct. As if Mike deliberately had chosen Brad as a friend so he wouldn’t vanish completely. To keep that little door open to the social life on campus. Mike paid by listening to his friend rambling constantly and by accompanying him to certain events. It was working perfectly since Shinoda showed no interest in the other gender and was no danger for Delson in any way. This friendship was also incredibly fragile because it hadn’t been built by true affection.

It was a quite satisfying cognition for the teacher because these last days had been incredibly difficult. His daily routine had been severely interrupted by the urge. Of course this was the worst of all times considering how many tests he had to prepare and how many exams he had to grade. Usually he’d be focused at this time of the year. It had bothered him and for a while he had tried to fight it. However, it had to be God’s plan and therefore he gave up.

Luckily he had been able to take some nice shots of Mike with his new digital camera. The field trip to the museum of American history had been a terrific idea by Katherine Schneider, a thirteen year-old girl with blonde pigtails and a scarily amount of freckles. He had made quite a few pictures and those satisfied him for quite a while. It had also been tremendously great when Mrs. Esther Kozniak had come to the teacher for help. Due to an unfortunate accident, Mr. Pfeifer, the Baseball teacher was no able to train the school’s varsity team. All of that only supported his unshakeable faith that everything had been predicted. That his affection towards this young boy needed to be acknowledged rather than suppressed.

Mike laughed about something Brad had grunted and the teacher found himself wishing almost painfully to be inaugurated. Deeply affected by the softness of that boyish laughter he allowed his thoughts to drift back to that one Sunday where he had walked into the boy’s locker room for the first time. The night before he had refreshed his coaching knowledge. It had been one of the greatest days ever to be face to face with a bare-chested Michael, who had instantly accepted him as the new coach.

Unfortunately the school had hired a professional coach only a few practices later. Thankfully the images of that bare skin had helped him through some lonely nights. The school year was almost over and the teacher couldn’t bare the thought of not seeing Michael on a daily basis. He already hated Sundays because of it. The boy didn’t even go to Church. He needed to act. It was time.

The bell ripped him out of his fantasy and he cleared his throat before saying, ‘See you all tomorrow. You can ago except for Shinoda. I need to talk to you about your latest paper.’

His classmates mocked him a little bit and Brad slapped him on his shoulders, saying, ‘That’s it, Shinoda. Failed History. Pffft, loser!’

Michael only shrugged because he knew that he certainly had not failed this course. He wasn’t even much interested in what his teacher would want with him but was only annoyed. His eyes followed his classmates with a plangent look as they stormed outside. Then he closed the door, after his teacher asked him to, and turned around to approach the desk.

The teacher dwelled a second on the boy’s beauty before he cleared his throat and said, ‘Please, Michael, sit down.’

‘Did I do something wrong?’ He asked carefully whilst complying.

‘As a matter of fact, yes, and I’m quite disappointed in you, son. Care to show me the comic book you’ve been reading for the last two hours in class?’

There was something quite satisfying about the sudden blush. As the boy’s cheeks filled with blood the teacher was struck with warmth. He had made the right choice and it had his mind already celebrating. There had been other boys like Michael. Some older, some even younger and it had always been a risky move to answer to the urge. It was therefore incredibly thrilling to realize that Mike wasn’t a risk. He’d be silent. He’d never share what was about to be happening.

‘I’m sorry, Sir,’ the boy mumbled an excuse and looked down at his hands.

‘I know this was a silent assignment but that meant reading about the subject, Michael. You know that I don’t tolerate such behavior,’ the teacher reprimanded and enjoyed to watch the sagging shoulders.

‘I know.’

‘Then why did you do it?’

Mike shrugged helplessly and glanced back at the door.

‘I will have to inform your parents,’ the teacher dealt his card and as expected the boy instantly started to protest.

‘No, please, Sir. I’ll promise it’ll never happen again,’ Mike shrieked in a plead and his eyes begged for mercy.

‘I’m sorry but I can’t make exceptions. You knew the rules and the consequences.’

The teacher concealed a smile whilst watching the boy’s despair. He wasn’t as ignorant as Shinoda’s friends and had seen through that silent façade. At the parents day it was almost painfully obvious that the boy was stuck in a dysfunctional family. Judging by his reaction he suspected the father to be very strict and the mother helpless. A phone call from school was definitely frightening him. The question remained if it was frightening enough.

‘Please, don’t call my parents,’ Michael pleaded again.

To visibly present his dilemma, the tutor sighed deeply and rubbed his cheeks. The gestured definitely triggered a bit of hope in the boy who seemed too intensify his desperate look. Although it was merely bait. It was foreplay and the teacher very much enjoyed it. Though, Michael was unaware of that. His teenage mind was more concerned about his parents and the consequences of a teacher calling home than to notice the strange underdone in his teacher’s voice, who played that sort of authority person who just might be reasonable.

Still watching the boy closely the teacher moved up and walked around the desk. He pulled himself a chair and sunk next to Michael, a soft tone in his voice, ‘what do you suggest I do? If I give you a special treatment I’d be unfair to others.’

‘But I wouldn’t tell anyone,’ Mike promised and it sounded like the sweetest melody in the teacher’s ears.

Only about twenty minutes later Mike regretted his words as he found himself in a nightmare. By then the teacher had his pants open, exploiting his erection to the shivering boy. He had taken the small hand and directed it to his semi-hard manhood and moved it slowly up and down. Every now and then he let out a pant, a groan whilst the student had his eyes fixed steadily at chalkboard until his eyes were starting to hurt.

The teacher, much unlike the young man who was near some sort of mental despair, enjoyed the boyish hand around his now fully erect cock. He enjoyed it almost as much as the sight of the completely confused juvenile who tried desperately not to risk a glimpse at what his hand was currently doing.

‘You’re doin’ great, Michael,’ the teacher breathed out impressed and shifted in his chair. His knee brushing against Mike’s legs.

‘…’ Mike didn’t reply but did what he was already doing. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t even protested before. This was clearly abuse and totally forbidden. All facts, he was well aware off and yet, still he found himself complying.

He flinched when the teacher came closer and touched his shoulder. A shiver ran down his spine when eager fingers stroke over his back. Mike wanted to push those hands away and stop his own from masturbating his teacher but he felt paralyzed. He was trapped in this moment and couldn’t figure out a way out. It was already done. The damage was already done.

‘You do that to yourself sometimes?’ The teacher asked and his voice sounded dreadfully amused. His delight was visibly showing inside his entire face.

‘Answer me,’ he demanded a little harsher when the boy didn’t answer.

‘No, I don’t,’ Mike lied and wished for everyone to be quiet. Moreover he wished this to be done. In his mind he fantasized that afterwards he’d quickly run to the police.

‘Liar. Boys like you do it all the time. I bet you are already cumming all over your sheets, right?’

With those words the teacher dared it and reach out for the boy’s denim pants. Mike instantly flinched and stopped the masturbation as if frozen in the moment. It didn’t anger the teacher but only elated him further. As he had predicted, Shinoda was a nice boy. A young person with an intact morality.

‘Don’t stop, darlin’,’ he therefore required whilst fumbling around the zipper of the boy’s pants.

‘Please,’ Mike croaked meekly and shifted in the chair. He wanted to get away from that hand and pushed back. However there was no escape. Strangely and sadly, standing up and running away didn’t even occur to him. He was too alienated by that behavior and only let out a small yelp when the teacher pushed his hand into his boxers.

Every color vanished out of his young face and his eyes filled up with tears. He couldn’t get away and wasn’t allowed to stop masturbating the older man. It was impossible for him to say one word. His throat felt sore the further this went on and the more aroused he became due to natural bodily functions.

‘You like that?’ The teacher asked in the same voice he’d use when he was testing his students.

With much pleasure, he noticed that the youngster was about to cry. He felt a jolt of joy when the first tear trailed down his cheeks. The salty liquid gave his face such a tragically glister and those trembling lips looked deliciously wetted. He couldn’t deny that this was having an amazingly arousing effect. Usually the teacher never indulged like that with his students. Yet, it had been a while since a young boy such as Mike had so profoundly affected him.

‘Answer me!’ He repeated his question and intensified the strokes around the boy cock.

‘No,’ Mike hissed through his teeth and blushed ashamedly.


The teacher pulled up his hand and smirked, ‘Then what is this?’

With that he wiped his hand over Mike’s lips, leaving awful traces of pre-cum on the young face. The boy however didn’t say another word. Despite some questions, he kept completely silent and only let out a small moan when he spurted his spunk into the teacher’s hand. It was enough for the older man who was also a patient man. He gestured Mike to stop rubbing his erection and said, ‘you can stop that now. Better run home because you are already late.’

The boy looked startled and didn’t react at first.

‘Come on, Michael. Clean yourself and go home,’ he softly suggested and handed the boy a tissue.

He was overwhelmed with the wretched sight of the boy, who didn’t even know that this was only the beginning. How much shame reflected from those eyes, the teacher thought ecstatically and soaked in the entire picture. There was nothing more beautiful than a boy like Mike in such a moment. He was so completely shaken and bewildered, that he even thanked the tutor for the handed tissue.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ the teacher said when Mike had finally brought order into his clothes and slowly walked towards the door. His was shifting a bit, almost seemed a bit drunk whilst he slurred to the exit.

When he was gone the teacher turned his palm upside down and looked at the boy-cum smeared across it. He smiled to himself before wiping it away with another tissue. It certainly had been a successful first encounter. With his heart beating wildly with joy the teacher packed up his stuff and planned to rush home quickly.


He was living only ten minutes away from Mike’s house and unlike his many colleagues he used a bicycle for transportation. It was an incredibly thrilling ride home on this beautiful afternoon and he almost whistled. Life was working perfectly. God’s plan was working greatly.

‘Hello, honey,’ the teacher greeted his wife at the door and hushed a quick kiss against her lips.

‘How was your day?’ the wife asked politely.

‘Ah, you know how they are so shortly before the break. I felt very unloved today,’ he joked and she gave him another kiss.

‘Dinner will be ready in an hour,’ she informed him a little while later. It sounded like a perfect time frame.

‘I’ll go check on Chaz, then,’ the teacher announced and walked upstairs. He briefly paused in front of the door that was plastered with a dozen signs that all basically stated ‘stay out’ before entering the room.

His adolescent son sat on a chair in front of the window. A year older than Michael and sadly not very well. The teacher leaned his head to the side and felt a rush of compassion for his boy. He was just as skinny, if not skinnier than the Shinoda boy and his shoulders were rocking constantly whilst he was knitting his own hands.

‘Hi, Chester,’ the teacher greeted the boy, who turned around and faced him with empty eyes.

‘Hi, dad.’

The father smiled softly and sunk onto the teenage bed, saying, ‘How was your day?’

‘Fine,’ the son replied quietly and completely emotionless. Then he moved up from his place, approached the bed and lay next to his father. He didn’t shiver nor flinch because this didn’t surprise him. He had been taught well and knew this was God’s plan.


End of chapter one.

Thank you for reading.

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