Disclaimer: This story is basically a fantasy involving humiliation, mild violence, and sexual activity between teenage boys. If you find such material offensive or in violation of the laws of your state/country, please don't read any further.
(c) Art M. Hill ArtHill579@aol.com All rights reserved (2004). If you enjoy this story, please email me.
"High School Blues" part 6: Joe gets cleaned up...
I was relieved when the guys all pushed out the door (Okay, I was checking them out!) and ran for the pool, leaving me alone with Mike, who gave me instructions on cleaning the guys' boots. He told me that since all the other guys had taken off their clothes, it was only fair that I should strip too. Reluctantly I took off my clothes while Mike watched intently. When my cock popped out hard as nails he laughed.
"I was hanging around to see how excited you were gonna get over my buddies in the buff. Obviously you got a first class boner. I knew you were a fag. I could tell when you were on the bike riding behind me. Besides you almost creamed in your pants when Jimmy stuck his foot up you ass at school the other day.
"It's not that," I protested weakly. I knew I was blushing. "It's just that I get horny a lot these days. I'm not gay."
"Sure, Zits," Mike said with a smile. "It's kind of funny how you always get a boner when we're around. I guy can't help but get the idea you got the hots for him."
I was silent. He laughed again. "That's okay, Zits, you can't help yourself. Just keep your hands off if you know what's good for you."
His comment about the size of my penis (which was only about 5 " inches when hard) did nothing for my self-confidence. I began to blush again, as I listened to Mike's mocking laughter. He told me to get to work and that I'd better be there when they came back since we were all gonna play a game together. After Mike left, I seriously considered going home. I had no desire to "play a game" with them, suspecting that it would be some form of humiliation directed against me. Again my natural timidity stopped me. What would happen at school the next day if I didn't hang around? They would probably all be after me and things would be worse than before. No, I would just have to stay and do what they told me to do until they got tired and let me go home.
I could hear them yelling and splashing around in the pool as I padded into the house to look for the cleaning supplies. I found them quickly in the small closet where Mike had directed me. Since I was very thirsty I went into the kitchen and grabbed another Coke from the frig, thinking that I might not be offered another one later. Then I sat down in the middle of seven pairs of motorcycle boots of various styles, sizes, and colors. The only thing similar about them all was that they all were covered with fresh mud from their owners' earlier racing around the field.
I started on Mike's boots which he had placed nearest to the chair where I had been sitting. My cock immediately began to rise as I picked up the dirty boot. I wasn't really surprised by my feelings. I had gotten a boner the other day when I was forced to lick Mike's and Jimmy's feet to avoid getting further beaten up. The boots fascinated me. They were like pure masculinity: powerful, confident, aggressive. Before starting my cleaning job I took the boot and began to rub it on my face. The feel and smell of the warm, smooth leather, broken in places by stitching and straps, was intoxicating. I placed the muddy tread of the boot directly on my face, imagining that, like the other day, Mike's foot was inside it. Then I took a deep whiff as I placed the top of the boot over my face. My cock was now rock hard and I was afraid I might ejaculate spontaneously. Guiltily I looked around to see if any of the guys were watching me or coming back to the porch. Luckily, I was still alone and no one could see me since the pool was off to the side of the house.
I figured I'd better get moving since I had seven pairs of boots to clean. I carefully wiped and buffed each boot making sure all the mud was off of them. I buffed and buffed until they almost looked brand new. I couldn't resist one more whiff when I had finished and again tipped Mike's boot up to my nose. I seemed to go into a trance, with the dark and dank interior of the boot becoming my whole world for a few moments. When I finally laid the boot down and looked up, I saw several grinning faces staring at me-including Mike and Jimmy. Damn!
"Well, Zits," Mike said, "I can see that you like our clothes as well as our bods! Maybe we should give you a permanent job as boot cleaner. What do you guys think?" he said, as the rest of them arrived. Most of them looked disgusted that anyone would do something so low as to sniff a dirty, used boot. Several of them even looked pissed like I had somehow defiled their clothes by using them to get a boner. Shawn and Brad were especially upset.
"This little faggot needs to be taught a lesson," Shawn said, "I think I'm gonna beat the shit out of him. What the fuck, cunt! Don't ya have any shame. You're such a pervert, sniffin' our boots. I don't think I wanna touch them any more. I think I'm gonna make you buy me a new pair, but first I'm gonna kick your ass!" I was speechless in fear and humiliation.
"Hold on dudes," Mike said, "let's go ahead with what we planned and then we'll see about Shawn and Zits squaring off. If we do it, we can use the setup I got in the basement. But first, Zits, it's time for a bath. Maybe you got those zits because you don't wash your face enough."
With that they all grabbed me and carried me out the door. I was struggling, but was no match for those muscular dudes. Probably one of them could have taken me and I was up against seven. As they carried me I couldn't help pressing against their warm muscular arms and chests and soon was off to the races again. The guys didn't miss the opportunity to point out what a horny homo I was.
They had reached the pool. "Well," said Jimmy, "this ought to cool off the fucker." With that they swung me in wider and wider circles and finally threw me into the pool. The cold water hit me like a bomb and I broke the surface screaming.
"Listen to him," Shawn said, "he sounds just like a girl. Hey babe, how's the water? Don't ya think you should cover up your boobs?" Everybody cracked up at that.
They had thrown me in the deep end of the pool and I began to swim toward the shallow end. I was a decent swimmer and was not in any danger of sinking. The guys followed me around the pool and prevented me from getting out.
"Hey, babe," yelled Brad, "you look real lonely in there. Ya want some company?" With that all of the guys yelled like crazy and jumped in the pool. I took off for the other end but some of them ran around and canonballed me from in front. At that point they had completely surrounded me. Now I began to get frightened, not knowing what they had planned. Shawn was mad enough before to challenge me to a fight. Was it possible they might try to drown me?...Well they didn't drown me, but almost. Each took turns dunking my head under water, grabbing me by the hair or shoulders or putting me in a headlock, pushing or pulling me down. I came up sputtering and gasping for breath. Finally Mike said:
"Okay, okay, that's enough. Damn I think his zits do look better!" Everyone laughed and dragged me out of the pool. I was utterly exhausted and could hardly move. Laughing, they threw me a towel to dry off.
"Hey Mike," yelled Shawn, "tell the fucker to put his clothes back on. I don't want to have to look at that faggot little boner of his."
I was marched roughly back to the porch where I was told to get dressed Then my captors ordered me down to the basement with all of them marching down behind me. At first it looked as if Shawn and I were going to put the gloves on (Mike had a rather crude boxing ring set up in the basement) and go at each other for real. I was relieved when I heard they had other plans-at least for now. I couldn't help but admire Shawn's tight body and bulging guns which, I'm sure, would make short work of me in the ring.
"Looks like your ass is saved for now, pussy," Shawn spit out. "Mike and Jimmy have something else in mind for now, something real special. You're gonna love it. But I'm not finished with you. We'll be in that ring one day real soon," he said, balling his fists and smacking them together.
I didn't understand what they had planned until I saw Mike with an electric clippers used in barber shops. "It's pretty hot these days, Zits, so we thought we'd help you stay cool. What do you think about that, faggot?" They had laid me out on an adjustable work table with my head hanging off the end, which they elevated. Shawn and Brad were holding on to me to make sure I didn't move. Tod and Phil were bracing my head. Suddenly I realized that they planned to cut my hair!
"Please Mike," I begged, "I'm sorry about the boots. I got them all real clean. I didn't mean to do anything else. Please don't cut off my hair. I'll do anything you want. Anything!"
"Well," said Mike, "I may just take you up on that offer. But right now I'm gonna make sure you understand your place and what happens when you screw up. Tod, Phil, hold the sides of his head so he doesn't move."
With that Mike plugged in the clippers and turned the switch on. There was a soft hum coming from the machine indicating that it was ready for use or abuse. I had always enjoyed going to the barber's for a haircut. It was relaxing and made you feel good. I doubted if I was going to feel good after this.
I tried one more desperate plea. "Mike, don't do this. Please don't." I was beginning to blubber and the guys drew closer to watch the wimp start to bawl.
"Whoa, dudes," said Brad, "this pussy is gonna cry like a little girl. What's the matter Zits, don't you want to look good? We're gonna give you a great haircut. Everyone in school will be jealous when they see how good you look. Go ahead Mike."
"No," Jimmy interrupted, "let me do it. I was thinkin' about becoming a barber once."
"Like hell you were," Mike laughed. "Well, why not? You're his best friend these days." That brought another howl from the guys as Mike handed over the clippers in Jimmy.
"Now, Zits," said Jimmy, "just relax and enjoy this. You're in the hands of a master." More laughter.
I was afraid he might cut me so I didn't move, but let him do what he wanted. My hair was about medium length, thick and quite straight. As Jimmy put the clippers to the back of my neck I could feel the cool metal come in contact with my skin. Instead of layering it, however, he just traced the outline of my head. He had set the clippers on the shortest setting, so that wherever he cut, I would be completely bald. I closed my eyes, held my breath, and waited for it to be over. I had to admit there was something sensual about the whole process-especially with Jimmy's big hands moving around my head and his warm breath on my neck. God, did I get horny over everything!?
Starting on the right side, he swept the clippers from the back of my neck all the way over the crown and down to my forehead. He repeated this maneuver several times. Then he moved to the side and cut all around my ear making sure to shear my sideburn as well. I could see the hair falling to the floor as the clipping progressed. The guys for once were almost silent. Their eyes were wide as they gazed intently on what was, in effect, a shearing.
"Awesome, dude," said Brad, almost whispering, "Fucking awesome..."
After Jimmy had finished the right side he repeated the clipping on the left side, from neck to forehead and then around the ear, giving both sides the same treatment. Then Mike got some lather and a razor. Jimmy rubbed the warm lather all over the areas he had shaved and then carefully ran the razor over most of my head to make sure there was no stubble left. By this time I was just sniffling, my eyes still closed. He rubbed some lotion over the shaved parts of my head which stung like hell. Jimmy said it would make me feel better later on.
"Okay, Zits, you're done and you look great. Next!...How 'bout you Phil?" Jimmy laughed.
"No fuckin' way," said Phil, "I don't want to look like no freak! But I gotta admit that's a way cool look for Zits here." With that everyone started cheering and high-fiving Jimmy. "Incredible, dude," they yelled. "Ain't ya gonna show him?"
"Wait a minute, man," Jimmy said. "Got to give it the finishing touch. Mike, you got a hair brush and some gel?"
Mike got a brush and gel and Jimmy went to work on me again. At first I was puzzled. I thought he had cut all my hair off, but apparently he hadn't. He had left something on top. He squeezed out a glob of the gel and worked it through my hair, taking the excess off with an old dirty towel. Than using a brush that looked like it belonged to his dog, he began to vigorously brush the remanents of my hair, first from front to back and then from bottom to top on both the right and left sides. The guys went into hysterics.
"Zits, your a new man. Wanna see? Come on!" They almost had to carry me, I was so disoriented.
There was a mirror on the other side of the basement. Mike flicked a switch to light up that part of the basement giving me a full view of the "new me."
I stared at myself in horror as all the guys laughed their asses off, some of them actually rolling on the floor. I really did look like a freak. Jimmy had given me a mohawk. I was completely bald on both sides of my head with a long narrow tuft right down the center, sticking up like a whisk broom. I held my hands over my face, not believing what I saw.
"You bastard!" I shrieked. "How could you do this to me? You stupid idiot!" My anger for once had overtaken my timidity, and I screamed out my rage and shame.
Retribution, of course, was quick in coming. Jimmy launched a powerful right fist into my gut. He followed it up with a left-right combination that knocked me to the floor at his feet, huddled in a fetal position. He kicked me once, twice.
"Don't you ever talk like that to me again, cunt," Jimmy growled. "You're a freak so you should look like one. Remember what I said about learning your place. I'm telling you right now, after Shawn beats the hell out of you, I'll be in line right behind him, and I swear I'll make Shawn's punches feel like love taps, you fucker. Now get up and get your ass out of here. You're just lucky I didn't decide to dye that wimpy hair of yours green or red. I may do it yet. What do you think guys?"
The guys roared their agreement. With the mood they were in, I felt it was best to get out of there as quickly as possible, which I did--still clutching my gut. But what could I possibly say about my hair--to my parents, to my teachers, to my friends? I started panicking again as I headed for home, cutting through the woods so no one would see me, at least until I could work out a plan.
(to be continued)