Disclaimer: This story is basically a fantasy involving humiliation, mild violence, and sexual activity between young men. If you find such material offensive or in violation of the laws of your state/country, please don't read any further. Remember to practice safe sex: this story is a fantasy in which STDs don't exist!
(c) Art M. Hill ArtHill579@aol.com All rights reserved (2004). If you enjoy this story, please email me.
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"Stop that fag! Stop that fag! Stop that fag!"
I thought I had been humiliated enough for one day. Chris Foster's jock friends Chuck and Larry had forcibly carried me out of school to the toilets behind the athletic field where they had ordered me to suck them both off through the local glory holes.
Now I can't say I didn't enjoy it, in spite of their abusive remarks. Those were two first class cocks and they fed me first class meals. But I wasn't too happy when they proceeded to give me the old golden shower treatment. I was left dripping wet and smelling like a urinal when they were finished with me.
To make matters worse Chris and several more of his friends were waiting in ambush when I emerged from the toilets, and forced me to strip. Chris then told me I could leave BUT that I had to walk to my car across the field in the raw! He `generously' offered me a condom to cover my semi-hard cock (reminding me that if I pissed him off he would tell everyone about my nasty habit of sucking used rubbers). Not wanting to get any more labels around school I decided that the best thing was to get out of there with or without my clothes, and started marching resolutely across the field.
That was when I was stopped in my tracks as I remembered that my car keys were back in my piss-soaked pants. At that same moment the jocks started chanting: "Stop that fag! Stop that fag!" Guys playing out on the field looked to see what all the screaming was about, and of course what they saw was me. I quickly became the center of attention.
I was frozen in a moment of indecision (with the wind blowing across my ass!) Maybe it would have been better to just let Chris humiliate me by telling his buddies about my little games with rubbers and have it over with. This strip show was turning out to be far worse. But I just couldn't go back for my keys. What the hell was I going to do?
Just then I remembered that I had taped an extra set of keys under the fender of the car in case I locked myself out or somehow lost the first set. With that, I sprinted across the rest of the field and started across the parking lot, the rough asphalt biting into my bare feet. More people in the parking lot saw me. Some simply stared in disbelief while others pointed and laughed. Would I run into one of my teachers? By that point I was beyond caring. I just wanted to get into the relative safety of my car and end this humiliation.
I knelt down in front of the bumper. I didn't want to bend over and expose my ass any more than necessary. The strong duct tape I had used to hold the keys in place was sticky and resisted my efforts to remove it and free the keys. While I struggled, more and more people gathered around me staring. It would only be a matter of time before the campus security guards showed up and maybe hauled me off to stand charges for indecent exposure. I'm sure this added embarrassment would have pleased Chris and his friends immensely.
Finally I got the keys, straightened up, and found myself face to face with Allen. He just stood there motionless like he couldn't believe his own eyes.
"Allen, I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I'll explain later. It's not my fault."
With that I ran around the car, opened the door, hopped in, and in a moment was speeding away from the laughing crowd of onlookers and heading for the campus exit. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Allen still standing there, his face frozen in a mask of shock which seemed to be turning into anger and contempt.
Today was turning out to be the absolute worst day of my life . . . and it wasn't over yet. What would I do when I got home and tried to get inside stark naked? Dad probably wasn't home yet, but mom must have been getting dinner ready. And Bob . . . what about Bob? Not only was I buck naked, but I had dried streaks of cum all over my face and smelled totally of piss. If Bob saw me like this it would be the end of our budding friendship. He probably would disown me and maybe even beat the shit out of me. I drove around aimlessly trying to figure out how I could get in the house without being seen. My house key was back on the athletic field along with my car keys!
The only thing I could think of was calling Allen. He would understand. He had to understand! Yeah, that was it. I'd call Allen on the cell phone, tell him I was coming over, and would explain everything (well, almost everything!) Then I'd take a shower, borrow some of his clothes and . . . Right! Sure you would. After what happened he probably thought you were a freak. I desperately didn't want that to happen. It was more than just the clothes thing. I knew I would survive that--somehow! Allen was my best friend, and I didn't want to lose that friendship. He was the guy that was always there for me; and I had always been there for him. At least until today. I screwed up my courage and called.
"Allen?" I said. "Please don't hang up. I need to talk to you. I know what happened this afternoon at school was totally bizarre, but I can explain. I want to come over. Is that okay?"
The silence on the other end of the phone spun out for what seemed like forever.
"Allen, please, we're friends. You've gotta trust me. I'll tell you everything, I promise."
"Yeah, right," Allen said, breaking the silence. "I asked you that day at the mall what was going on and you shut me out. Now that you got yourself in over your head you want your `best friend' Allen to trust you. I tell ya, Dave, it's not fair. You use me whenever you need help, but you never really tell me what's going on."
For a minute I was tempted to hang up myself. I didn't need some self-righteous jerk passing judgment on me, especially now . . . The only trouble was that right about now I did need him. We could work out our differences later.
"Allen, you're right. I haven't been straight with you, but I'll tell ya I can't hide much from you right about now."
Allen suddenly laughed. "No you can't, can you?" He laughed harder. "You should have seen yourself in the parking lot with your bare ass sticking out and your dong waving in the breeze. You're lucky nobody had a camera. Your picture would have been all over the campus by tomorrow and maybe on the Net too . . . Yeah, buddy, c'mon over. I'll wait for you by the back door. Mom and dad' ll be watching the early news. It's their pre-dinner ritual. Nobody'll see you. Now get your ass over here before I change my mind."
The line went dead. I was saved . . . Man, I was saved in more ways than one. Allen was right. What if someone did have a camera. It's a good thing Chris and his friends didn't really plan this thing out. But what about next time . . . ?
Putting those thoughts out of my mind (I didn't need to think about that right now!) I drove over to Allen's house and pulled all the way down to the end of his driveway. Allen was there at the back door just like he said.
"I told mom and dad that you would be coming for dinner so they won't be surprised to see you. Now get the hell upstairs and get in the shower. You smell worse than my dog."
Well, I really didn't keep my word and tell Allen everything that happened that afternoon. I just couldn't. How could I tell him about what happened in the toilet with Chuck and Larry? How could I tell him that I had willingly sucked both of them off? Of course I had to explain why I was nude and smelled like piss. I decided that I'd better be honest about that (mostly).
"Ah, Allen, this is really embarrassing, but I do have to tell somebody what really happened. It's starting to drive me crazy." I took a deep breath. " Okay, I told you that day at the mall that Chris Foster and a couple of his buddies were hassling me. Well it's gotten worse. Today I was in the toilet next to the field and two of those guys came in and started pissing on me. They got me totally soaked. Then when I left, Chris and some of the other guys jumped me and made me take off all my clothes. Then they said I could leave but that I had to walk to my car in the nude. I was getting my extra set of keys when you saw me."
Allen looked at me skeptically for a long moment. He was obviously trying to decide whether to believe me or not. Finally he must have figured that my story was too crazy to make up. I could see his hard stare begin to soften.
"Damn, Dave," he said, obviously sympathetic now. "Why don't you report those jerks? Nobody should have to take that kind of crap." He obviously presumed I couldn't physically defend myself against a bunch of muscle-bound football players. "Guess I was wrong about Foster," he went on to say, although he never admitted that it was a mistake to pick him up that day when he was hitchhiking to school.
"Yeah, well maybe I should think about reporting them," I said, not meaning it at all. You report guys like that and you're dead meat. Besides they had enough embarrassing stuff on me that, if they wanted to get revenge, I would never be able to show my face on campus again. And if Allen were to find out the whole truth through them . . .
After dinner, I tried to get away from Allen as quickly as I could. I just wanted to get home and rest and think about what I should do next. I dreaded the idea of having to face Chris for school the next day (not to mention everybody who had seen me naked!)
When I got home, wearing Allen's clothes, I saw a bulging plastic bag sitting on the porch. As I was ready to knock on the front door (lost my keys, ma!) I opened the bag and just about fainted from the smell. It was my clothes from school! Somebody had dropped them on the porch while I was at Allen's house! Thank God I was the one to find them or I would have had a lot of explaining to do.
I ran around the side of the house with the bag and gingerly pulled out my things. I went through my pockets and pulled out my car keys. My house keys were no where to be found. Did they fall out? . . . Suddenly I was gripped with fear. Chris or one of his buddies must have taken them out. Now they had my house keys and could get in whenever they wanted! Things were getting more and more complicated. I thought about telling dad I had lost both my car keys and house keys and that he better changed the locks, but I didn't relish the idea of a two hour lecture about responsibility. Something else to file away and think about later!
"Hey Davey." I met Bob as I was going up the stairs to my room. He looked like he was going out. "Yeah," he responded to my question. "I'm double-dating with Greg Forster again tonight. Man we scored big the last time. Best lay I had in a long time; gonna get me some more," he said casually. "By the way, what ever happened to my boots? You could've shined em a dozen times by now. You ain't makin' love to em are ya?"
I could tell that Bob was just kidding around. If he only knew! I tried to laugh. "Ah, sorry Bob, but I've been kinda distracted lately. I'll get right on `em (Sir!)"
"Okay," said Bob, as he rushed toward the door. "But I expect to see those boots spit shined and outside my door by tomorrow morning mister, or else!"
This time, with my cock twitching, I did answer him with a snappy: "Yes, Sir!"
He looked at me strangely for a moment, then grinning, shook his head, and disappeared out the door. Meanwhile, my cock was at half mast. The hard part was thinking about how hot Bob looked and sounded, and how well he could put a note of authority in his rugged voice. The soft part was thinking about the renewed possibility that Bob would learn about my faggy behavior at Fosters' house-- especially if Chris were there and started running off at the mouth.
Putting aside thoughts about Chris for now, I went upstairs to finish my job on Bob's boots. After that first time I used them to jack off, I had wiped off the cum as best as I could and stuck them back in the closet. I had masturbated with them twice more. Jeez, I hope they weren't gonna rot!
I spent almost a full hour going over those boots with black paste and a buffer until they shined almost like mirrors. My cock was rock hard the entire time, and it was like all I could do to resist the temptation to jack off with them one more time. I also had a random thought--where the hell did that come from --about tying one of the boot strings around my balls and then dropping the heavy boot. I winced at the thought of the pain, but my cock started leaking out precum.
To avoid any further temptation I quickly put Bob's boots back in his room and went to my own room and started surfing the TV. Damn, a lot of garbage. I started to wonder . . .
Against my better judgment I decided to sneak over to Chris' place and see what was going on. It was already getting dark, making my spying easier. I got into `my' car and drove as close as I could to the Foster house. That meant a gas station about a quarter of a mile up the road.
"What the hell was I doing?" I asked myself. This was simply asking for trouble, and I already had enough of that to last the rest of the semester. Still, something made me go on: curiosity about what I would see.
I walked up the road and into Chris' driveway. It was already full dark as I moved silently up to the house. I could hear loud music and laughter coming from inside. Sounded like a party. Bob's car and several others were pulled up next to the house as I moved around to look in the living room window, which was close to the ground. Chris was there (gulp!) with a few of his buds, but no sign of Bob or Greg. I was just about to leave, figuring that they had gone out, when I saw a light coming from the back of the house. It must have been one of the bedrooms. Better check it out . . .
What I saw almost made me fall on my ass in shock. I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. The bedroom window was also low enough to give me a good view of what was going on inside, even through the flimsy curtains. There were two beds in the room. Each was occupied by a naked writhing couple, obviously engaged in an intense fuck session. Even through the closed window I could here a chorus of moans and groans. It didn't take long to identify the bare ass closest to me as belonging to my brother Bob; the other guy must have been Greg. They were fucking their dates in the same room! Damn! Besides that, Chris and his friends were right down the hall. My head was spinning!
In spite of my surprise at what was happening, my eyes remained glued to the scene in the bedroom. Damn, it was hot! Both guys were planted on top of their girlfriends fucking for all they were worth. My focus, of course, was on Bob. I saw his muscular ass contract and relax as he drove his huge pole into the willing cunt under him. I saw that his girl was extremely well endowed, and he didn't hesitate to maul, suck and bite her titties while he was fucking. She responded by biting his neck and running her long fingernails over the broad expanse of his sweaty back. "Oh, God, Bobby," she screamed, "That's it! That' s it! Fuck me harder! Harder!!"
As if to emphasize her point, she grabbed his ass and pulled him in even further, like she just couldn't get enough of his huge pole. Bob was quick to oblige her pleading, rearing back so that I could see his cock pull almost all the way out of her and than plunge back in--making her (and the bed!) groan as if in agony. "Take it, you bitch. Take my big pole. I'm gonna split you open, you cunt. Fill ya up so my jizz comes out your fuckin' nose," he growled. They were yelling so loud I could here them right through the window. God knows what Greg and his girl were doing--not that I really cared.
Then Bob slid his arms under her thighs and lifted them up, bending her almost in half. She screamed. Then he whipped her over and took her from behind. She obviously loved it as I could see her pushing back to meet his powerful thrusts. He gripped her so hard along her hips I could almost see his fingers sinking into her flesh. The two of them were working themselves into a frenzy, thrashing around and moaning like hell. It looked just like the porn flick that Allen and I had watched a few weeks ago.
I couldn't help it. I tore open my fly, pulled out my cock and began to stroke--slowly at first and then faster and faster, taking my cue from Bob's fuck rhythm. Damn, my cock got hard almost at once. The precum started dripping from my cock as I continued to flog it in response to the incredibly hot scene in front of me. It made a sticky mess all over the front of my pants, but I wasn' t even paying attention. I was totally absorbed in watching Bob nail his girl to the mattress and the sensations coming from my cock as I continued to watch.
My feelings at that moment were completely clear. I wished I was the girl that Bob was pounding. I wanted to feel his giant cock sliding in and out of me. I wanted to feel him way up inside my chute, pull out until just the head was inside me, and then slam back into me, filling me up and stretching me out. I wanted to feel the heat of his body and his perspiration surrounding me wetly with the sweet smell of his manly odor. I wanted him to manhandle me, twisting my tits and squeezing my buns as he pushed himself into me as far as he could. And I wanted to hear him talk dirty to me, calling me his bitch, his whore, his cunt.
That was all it took. I felt my cock swell up and explode powerfully in my hand, spraying cum all over the side of the house and dripping freely down my pants. I cried out involuntarily in pleasure and immediately clapped my hands over my mouth so that Bob and the others didn't know they had an uninvited guest.
I was exhausted from my orgasm, but my eyes were still glued to the scene in front of me, especially since Bob and his girl were also climaxing. They clutched each other in one final passionate embrace as Bob emptied his load deep inside her convulsing pussy. With a final sigh Bob collapsed on top of her. Dimly I thought I heard her say that he was incredible.
I was about to turn away from the window. With my sexual tension drained for the moment, I again realized the peril of my position. But before I could move I found myself in a headlock. It was like a vise, forcing me to the ground. Dimly I became aware of several shadowy figures surrounding me.
"Hey, guys, looks like we caught ourselves a Peeping Tom. Ain't that right, perv?" The voice belonged to Chris. He tightened his grip on me.
"Whatdaya think we should do with him?" This time it was Chuck.
"Oh, I would say the first thing we do is call Greg and his buddy. I think they got a right to know our neighborhood faggot has been checking them out. C' mon perv," he said, wrestling me toward the door. "I think it's time you met my big brother."
(to be continued)