Serving Danny Robert Halstead
Note to reader: The Danny in this story is not related in any way to the other Danny's in the stories I've written. I just happen to like the name a lot. This Danny however, is a real person and a star in many of my fantasies even to this day.
All that said, let's get to the story. . . .
It wasn't easy being queer in high school back then, but there was one advantage to being a queer in an all-boys' high school. At least I didn't have to pretend to be interested in girls. It was a lot easier to just blend in. Another good thing about our boys' high school was that we didn't have gym and therefore never had to shower together. I don't know if I could have handled that. As it was, I was constantly imagining what the other boys had between their legs, always searching out of the corner of my eyes for any evidence of their dicks hiding in the crummy uniform pants we all had to wear.
By the time I was in tenth grade I had mastered the art of the "sneak peek," especially when we stood next to one another at the urinals. That was another thing different back then: we stood right next to each other. The annoying custom of always leaving one space empty between each other had not yet become the rule of the land, nor were there any dividers between the urinals, and I took full advantage of the situation. To this day I can remember some of the dicks I got to know rather well, especially since we were at the age when most of us were filling out, if you know what I mean.
I used to go to a summer camp when I was in Middle School. It was a special camp for wimpy boys, promising to build us up without putting us down all the time. It was a hoot, let me tell you. It turned out that a lot of the boys were already homos and those that weren't were cool about things. I didn't come out myself because I still didn't want to admit it to myself. I can't say much about it because that would violate the rules about minors. All I can say is that I learned an awful lot about dicks when I was there. For years after I regretted that I wasn't more active those summers. I've had to make up for lost time ever since. Oh and by the way, the program was nice and it did help us build ourselves up a bit more. So not only were all these closet cases running around naked after hours, but most of us were looking better and better as the summer went on. Oh, what memories!
I'm only telling you this because I want you to realize how frustrating it was in high school when I hardly ever got to look at anything more than whatever was sticking out through a boy's zipper when he was pissing. Damn. I even thought of asking my parents to send me to public high school where they had gym and showers.
There was one main reason why I didn't ask but rather decided to stick it out in private school. That reason was named Danny O'Donovan. Apple of my eye since middle school and looking better every year since. Danny with the lush flowing blond hair he was always running his fingers through. Danny with the green eyes that got wide and shining when he was happy. Danny with sullen eyes when one of our teachers was reading him the riot act, but I think it was all an act, because I don't think anyone would ever be able to put Danny down. Danny with the golden eye lashes. Danny with a body that was filling out as the years went by but that never got bulky. Danny with all the self-confidence that I never had. And Danny who liked to pick on me all the time.
I got upset the first time it happened when he walked by my desk and pulled my pencil out of my hand and walked off with it. "hey!" I yelled, but quickly shut up so I wouldn't get in trouble. After class my buddy Tommy teased me. "He must like you," he told me. "No he doesn't. He did that because he knew I couldn't fight back. He figures I'm the biggest coward in the world."
Tommy disagreed: "First, you're not a coward and second, Danny only teases kids he likes. That's what everyone says."
I didn't think about it much until a couple days later I was at my locker when I got pricked in my side by something sharp. It was Danny, holding my pencil. "Brought it back to you. Even had it sharpened for you. Keep a tougher hold on it in the future." He poked me again and I grabbed on to it. "That's right. Practice grabbing things. Good for you, kid."
My mind went right to the gutter. Shit, I'd just spent the summer doing lots of grabbing. Started wondering about grabbing him. Wondering if I'll ever even get to see it.
Danny backed off for a while and I figured he lost interest. In a way I was relieved. For some reason he wakes up feelings in me that I don't like to have. Feelings of being one of the homos in camp. Of course at the same time I failed to take any of my behavior that summer into account, all the times when Gus convinced me to hold his dick in one hand and his scrotum in the other while his friend Smitty watched, and so on . . .
As much as possible I tried to put a wall in my mind between summer camp and school. If I didn't I'd go crazy. I couldn't do anything of the summer camps things in school. I couldn't even let on that I would even want to do things like that. We never talked about that kind of stuff in school. All that was sinful, we were told. All that destroys our relationship with God. Then why did God build in a self-destruct set of desires in u or give us dicks in the first place? But of course, who ever could dare ask such things back then? Everything we were being told was the absolute truth, never to be denied, never to be doubted.
I don't think any of that mattered to Danny. One day he came up to me in the cafeteria and pulled the front of my shirt up out of my pants. I responded with the customary "hey!" but not as loud. "Too bad you're not on the football team. They strip all the way after games. They take showers together. You could show yourself off to them. I'm sure they'd love to see a cute little guy like you, maybe toss you around like a football."
I got bold. "But you're not a football player either, Danny." I think that was the first time I ever said his name out loud for him to hear.
"They'll let me watch if I give you to them."
Was this guy serious? And why did my dick start to get hard the minute he said that? Damn that became stroke material for weeks afterwards. Danny dragging me to a bunch of guys who wanted to strip me naked and knock me around. But no, I'd be too ashamed. I'm not really very big down there, not compared to the other guys I know. I bet they would be bigger than my boner even when they're soft.
Even at camp, nobody ever teased me about it, but I also realized that nobody ever came over and wanted to grab me. No. They wanted me to do the grabbing.
Danny and I started kidding around more after that. Only when other guys weren't around. I swear I think he must have been stalking me. He always knew just when to show up. Then he started with the name calling. "Powderpuff" was the one I hated the most. But he started laughing and showing me his happy eyes when he called me that, and that made it okay. Now when I look back I realize that he was in the process of learning how to handle me, how to get to me. And he was a good student when it came to dealing with me. I didn't realize how special I was to him at the time. I wasn't able to ever think of myself as special to anybody. And I certainly wasn't aware of the fact that he was consciously and deliberately "training" me.
I don't remember much of what we talked about or joked about. What I remember the most was his eyes and how they changed according to circumstances, and how sometimes it felt like the were piercing right through my eyes and into my brain. I also remember all the touching. Were all of us like that back then, all touchy-feely we'd call it now?
But Danny was touchy-feely with me in "special" ways. He touched me in places no one else ever would. My armpits. My left leg halfway down from my butt. His finger in my ear, dammit! Once he told me to stick out my tongue and like an idiot I did it only to get it slapped as soon as I did. Never fell for that one again.
Talk started up about queers around ninth grade. The word homo seemed to go out of fashion. We started all calling each other queer until one day Fr. August got really pissed off and gave us a lecture about how we shouldn't used words that mean bad things. Queer is bad? I asked myself. Homos are bad? We never talked that way in camp.
But now my years in that camp were over and there was a whole new set of rules to live by and I had trouble figuring them out because I was so confused about myself by then after all the things I ended up doing in camp but would never do here in school. And sometimes before I went to sleep I think about what it would have been like if Danny had gone to the same camp as I did. Wow.....
I figured it was just okay to be kind of queer in summer camp but once we got into high school and started developing down there with hair and all, it was time to give all that up because it was wrong. The only problem with that viewpoint is that I couldn't give it all up when I got into high school. I still wanted things to be the way they were in camp when no one was ever made to feel guilty for the stuff we were doing. I still wanted to see other guys naked. I still wanted to touch them if I liked what I saw. But now I found out I couldn't dare let anyone know I still wanted that kind of queer stuff.
One day Danny came over to me and put his hand on my chest. "Listen to me," he said, and stared right into my eyes. "Any guy around here calls you queer, let me know. Got it?"
"Yeah, Danny, sure," I answered, and felt a burning in my chest where he had touched me. The only guy who ever did was Tony Denuncio in eleventh grade because he caught me peeking at him in the boys' room and called me out about. "Cooper's a queer. He was staring at my dick when I was pissing. He's fucking cock-eyed!" That got around like crazy and there was nothing Danny could do to stop it. He stopped coming around me, though. I figured he decided I was really queer and so didn't want to be seen around me. The damn shame of it all was that Tony didn't even have much worth looking at. I got myself in trouble and started getting called `cock-eyed' all for nothing special.
One day Tony came up to me and actually apologized for calling me that. "I'm telling everyone to stop doing it. I have a cousin who really is queer and they give him such a hard time about it in his school. He even had to transfer to another school. His parents are pissed off and treat him like dirt now. He told me he's gonna run away. I even asked my parents to let him come live with us but they said no, they don't want him to corrupt me. This shit is just wrong, man. Wrong. So if you're queer it's fine but I swear I'm gonna try to stop you getting called names."
I thought that was pretty nice after all. I heard later on that year that Tony's cousin did actually run away and nobody knows where he went. That must be awful, especially for the poor cousin. I was really pissed at my parents about that and when they found about him running away they felt pretty bad about it too. By then, though, I knew I was a queer. How long could I manage to keep it a secret from them, I wondered.
Danny turned 18 at the beginning of senior year. He'd been left back when he was in third grade. WE all had fun with that. We started calling him "Mr. Danny, Sir," all the time. He went along with the joke. Like I said, Danny had lots of self-confidence. Nothing like that would faze him in the least. Once he came over to me when I was bent over getting something out of my locker. He came right up behind me and pressed his groin against my ass. I backed off real quick to push him away and he laughed. "Leave me alone, Mr. Danny Sir," I hollered.
He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed and it hurt like hell. "You can leave off the Mr. Danny and just call me Sir. One of these days you're gonna back into me like that when our pants are down," he whispered in my ear and then stuck his tongue in it. Gross!
One day a bunch of us were sitting around and Danny was telling us that his father had a talk with him. "Told me never to touch a high school girl now that I'm 18, that I could get in a lot of trouble, even be accused of what he calls statuary rape or something like that. Funny thing is that I don't know any high school girls I want to touch except for Cooper here." Everyone laughed and I turned bright red!
As usual I just put up with all of it. I knew they whispered about me sometimes calling me queer and now cock-eyed fag. One day the Elliot twins asked me if I wanted to see two dicks that were exactly alike. I shook my head and walked away although the truth was that I would have love to see them, do something with them even, but I was too damn afraid that things would even get worse around here. I couldn't wait until graduation.
Danny didn't stop touching me; in fact, he stepped up the activity, even starting to punch me but not too hard. One day he actually took me by the front of my pants and stuck a finger inside the front. "You grow any hair in there yet, Coop?" he asked. "Probably twice as much as you, blondie, and nice dark hair," I retorted and he slapped me across the ass. Hard. And I tingled for a while. "Hey, when the hell are you gonna turn 18?" he asked me.
"June 30."
"that's graduation day."
"Yup. I'll be out of here and 18 all on the same day. My parents are planning a big party for adults only though. I can't invite anybody from here. But I probably wouldn't anyway, Wouldn't want to take a chance that someone would call me a name at my own damn party."
"Maybe I'll dress like my Dad and try to crash the party. If so I'll have a nice graduation present to give you."
I was ready for him this time. "Do you promise?" I asked him and his eyes got big and he put this sneer on his face that used to scare me but doesn't any longer. I just think it's cute when he tries to act touch with me.
He doesn't answer my question. "What are you doing this summer?" he says.
"Nothing yet. Haven't given it any thought. I was thinking of trying to get a job at the summer camp I used to go to."
"My older brother is putting together a lawn care business and I'm gonna work for him. Maybe I can get you a job there too. Would you like that? You'd get to work bare-chested in the summer, get a nice tan, let people see your titties, even."
"I could see yours," I retorted, getting bolder and bolder now that the high school nightmare was almost over.
"Sooner than you think, Coop." That's what he started calling me when he wasn't making up other names for me like "bend over boy" or just "Fingers."
"Let's go outside. It's warm out," I dared suggest.
Would he go for it?
You can reach me at subkodak25@gmail.com.
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