Rank was his name and his reputation. He was a bully and everyone stayed away from him. Why he focused on me was anybody's guess..at least at first. I was like any of the other kids, backpack, bike, schoolwork, dressed like most of them and even pierced my ear like most of the kids did..even Rank. But for some reason he decided I was his target and took great pains to seek me out, taunt me, call me a little fag, pick on my bike, push my books out of my hands, depants me, give me wedgies, make the brunt of jokes and somehow always knew where I was so he could do all this and more. I changed my route into school and home again. I waited until the last minute to dash from homeroom to class. But Rank was there..slamming my locker, smacking my ass with his book, putting extra lock on my bike and smacking the back of my head. Gym class was no different. He taunted me as I changed clothes..nobody else helped me..for fear they'd be his next target. Even the coaches seemed to avoid Rank...he was trouble. I asked the folks to put me in a private school, transfer or move..but they didn't seem to measure the amount of distress Rank kept causing me. My grades suffered, my friends avoided me and I was a victim. "You're only a victim if you act like one" My dad said to me. That wasn't the advice I wanted to hear..but I thought about it and began to fight back. Words, cursing, reporting him and anything else I could think of I did. The school principal would avoid me because I'd not only complain but put it in writing and send a copy to the school board. I became trouble too. As for Rank, the first time I told him to fuck off, he got really angry because I did it in front of the group of guys who hung out around him. I ran and he couldn't catch me thanks to an intervening teacher. But I knew that instead of quelling trouble, my actions were bringing things quickly towards some kind of traumatic point. It came on Friday after school Rank swung one punch at me and I fell back so fast the bikes I fell against went sprawling. My head got gashed and blood was everywhere...not the least of which was all over my white tee shirt. I fought back and dove into Rank's mid section flailing my arms..and felt each time I hit his head, arms, legs and face. Whatever damage he had done to me, I was going to return. I was pissed and didn't care anymore. A group of kids circled around us and since school was over about an hour ago, most teachers had jumped in their cars for a quick Friday getaway. Nobody would intervene this time...and I knew it. I lay on the ground barely able to move....Rank cursing the pain I caused him still laughed at the "pile of shit". I yelled at him...."Tommorrow, 10 AM, just you and me" and he laughed. My folks made quite a fuss and after my wounds were bandaged, I skipped dinner and went to bed. I re read my books on fighting...actually wrestling magazines. I watched world wresstling on my tv. I knew it was an act but it was a good one and I thought I could immitate some of their moves. I didn't eat breakfast the next morning...and pulled on only my gym shorts and shoes and jogged across town...past the apartment buildings...stores and to the area where Rank lived. He was there, working on his motorcycle. I stood there, fists clenched and said "Let's go, you fuckhead". Rank looked up at me like some little irritating bug. "Get the fuck out of here, it's Saturday". That confused me....did he think taunting me was a weekday job or something? I lifted a wrench and threatened him...the look on his face startled me. It wasn't the tough bully expression he wore at school, he was shocked that I ws waving the iron tool at him. "You crazy kid?" "I told you I'd be here. Nobody's around but you and me..so let's do it...right fucking now!" Get the picture...Rank, about 6 ft tall, stocky, torn sleeves, cutoff jeans displaying his sizable thighs and me, 5 ft 2, thin, younger, a child by comparison and I was threatening him. I was loving the moment..but only for awhile. Rank seemed to regain his composure and moved towards me..pushing my bare shoulder. "You want me kid? You little shit think you can take me? Come on faggot." I stepped back and even dropped the weapon I had. He was winning again and that made me angry...not at him, but at myself. "You're only a victim if you act like one" kept echoing in my head. I dove, head first into his stomach and we both cascaded back on top of his tools and motorcycle parts. I waved my fists again..as I had the day before and this time I hit his face, jaw, shoulders, chest, stomach and crotch. He lifted me and threw me back. "Out back kid, you want it, you got it" he dragged me by his hand around the back of my neck like some alley cat around the garage and into the back yard. "I'm gonna beat you until you're a bloddy stump and throw you over that fence"
That fence was a tall wooden one..that surrounded the entire yard. Nobody could see us....A glance towards his house looked for others around. "Don't fuking worry, nobody's here..its just yo and me like you said you wanted" His fist swung and I ducked. That pissed him off. He swung again and I grabbed his arm..not knowing what to do next. "Fight on the offensive, not the defensive" flashed across my brain...a quote from some magazine article I read. I dove at him again and this time he stepped out of the way. I fell to the ground and he laughed. "You think I'm a fuking idiot kid?" I did but I didn't say so...I didn't have time because I was busy getting out of his way. At the last minute I reached and grabbed his leg causing him to fall on his back and knocking some wind out of him. I jumped on top and started beating him...his arms grabbed mine and easily pulled me over and that put him on top of me. I was gasping for breath..I wanted it over...I realized Rank just wouldn't get the message and leave me alone...he was the bully and I was the kid. We wrestled..he grabbed and ripped my shorts...I tried to do the same to the ripped sweatshirt he wore. His bare chest became visable and it startled me....he was as developed as the men I had seen in the magazines and the wrestlers I had watched while jacking off in the privacy of my bedroom. My cock seemed aroused despite the pain felt all over my body. "Looks like you ARE a little faggot" Rank said...he had ripped my shorts open so only the waistband and shreds remained. I kept fighting. He kept winning and soon I was on my face on the ground, my arm twisted behind me and Rank on top of me. "Guess what kid, I got a surprise for you" It hurt like hell. He had jabbed his fat cock into my asshole and it hurt like hell. "Don't panic kid...just relax and take it. It's what you want anyway..and I'm going to make you my bitch from now on" This was talk I had heard on TV, read and watched in films. I knew what he meant...after all I was old enough to know the score. But I couldn't move. I screamed out and he laughed..I was really hurting. "Just shut up and relax..it'll be over in a few moments" he said to me..not threatening but calm...that made me quiet down. "Push down like you're taking a shit" For some reason I did what he said and sure enough the pain stopped and other sensations went through me. Rank's moaning and groaning filled my ear..his cock was sliding in and out of me. He jammed into me then slowly slid out then jammed hard again. "I'm not gonna make this quick...I'm gonna make you feel it..and love it." He fulfilled his promise...I was getting so excited that all I could think of were the muscle men who I had seen on tv wrestling..and the magazines I have at home. He started gasping and acting like he was having some sort of problem. I actually turned my head and asked "you ok?" I don't know why...he laughed and jammed into me a few more times..and then collapsed on top of me. Not only was I still a victim but now I was a faggot being fucked..and he'd tell everyone about it, I knew. I moved quickly and got out from under him..and before he moved, I jammed my own erection into his ass. He had conventienly dropped his cutoffs to fuck me..now I had a clear shot. He yelped but didn't move..I grabbed his hips and jammed my cock into him several times. Rank didn't jump up, curse me or even push me away..all of these he could have done. I kept fucking and fucking out of anger and fear at first. "Hey go slow....enjoy it kid" I stopped and then did as he said...again his voice was different then it was when he threatened me. "He's had enough, leave him alone" Rank said to his two companions who started to give me shit the following Monday. They looked at him and he swaggered away. They looked at me. "Guess you made your point on Friday" one of them said to me. I nodded and walked away. "Hey" his voice was recognizable..deep and emotionless "about Saturday". I didn't know what to say. His phone call had interupted my studying and I didn't mind. "Yea....that was something" I said. "Cool. Just between us?" "Always" I said. "Cool" There was silence but neither of us hung up. "Come over" he said. It wasn't an order or a question. "OK" I said and made my plans to sneak out of the house. I was not longer a victim..but I wasn't the bully either. Something had happened neither Rank nor I expected. He probably knew more about what happened then I did. I'd eventually ask him. But for that night and several after, we weren't adversaries...I didn't know what we were, but we weren't bully and victim either. Years later, we met on the street and shook hands. I was in college. He was a mechanic. We didn't hug or anything..but there remained something between us. We discussed getting together during my holiday home..but we didn't. I regretted that for years.