I'm Not Gay:  Ferris Concludes
by Ashley Hardric ©2006

    This is a work of fiction.  That means it is not true.  Didn’t happen.  It’s a figment. No boys were involved or harmed in the writing of this story and no trees were sacrificed.  Author assumes no responsibility for seminal damage to keyboards.  Author does not condone sex with boys; he just writes fantasies about it.  Further, sex in reality requires caution and protection, but my characters won’t catch any bad bugs unless I write them in.  Be safe and legal in the real world, and enjoy the story only if you are of age and location to do so legally.

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I'm Not Gay:  Ferris Concludes (for real this time!)

By the time Philip finished telling me about him getting raped in sixth grade, both of us were crying.  I held him and stroked his beautiful hair while he sobbed and he got my shirt all wet with his tears and snot, and mine too, I guess.  Like a couple of little kids, we just bawled.  I could not bear that Philip had had to endure such pain, and I guess for him, it was almost like going through it all over again, just telling me all the horrible details.

Finally he quieted down, just sobbing a little bit from time to time, and I grabbed some Kleenex and we both blew our noses and wiped our faces.  He looked at me.

“You see why...” he started, at the same time I said, “You don’t have to...” and we both stopped.

“Philip, you...” I began again, and at the same time he was saying, “Ferris, do you...”

We stopped again.  It was almost funny.  Almost.  I wrapped my arms tighter around him and just hugged him.

“I’m never gonna let anything like that happen to you again,” I told him.  “Never, ever.  I should have been there to protect you.”

“Ferris, you didn’t even know me then.  I didn’t even go to your school.”

“I don’t care.  I should have been there.”  I know, it didn‘t make any sense even as I said it, but it was all I could think to say to try to express how I felt.  Then I got mad.

“Those goddam motherfuckers!  I’m gonna find ‘em and make them pay.  I’m gonna fucking kill those slimeballs.  I’m gonna beat their asses into the ground and rip their balls off and cut their goddam cocks off.”

I was suddenly so angry I literally saw red.  If one of those jocks had been anywhere close, I would have done what I said.  I would’ve.  Philip looked at me, shocked.  He’d never seen me get really mad, I guess.  Because I almost never do.  But when I get really worked up, you better watch out.  Fortunately, it almost never happens, like I said.

Generally, I don’t fight.  I don’t want to and I don’t have to.  Some big dumb jerk tried to pick a fight with me a month or so ago by calling me a fag, and I just smiled at him.  He tried to take a swing at me and I caught his wrist and held on to it, and then spun him around so I had him in a headlock and his arm twisted behind his back.  Then I told him, in front of everyone, I said, “I don’t want to fight you and I’m not going to.  I don’t have to because everyone knows I can flatten you.  And you know it too.  Later, Dude; have a nice day.”  I let go of him  and walked away.  No one has bothered me since; they know what I said was true.

But what Philip told me had really provoked me, and I did get mad.  I guess it was only because Philip was sitting on my lap that I didn’t get up and start hitting something.  He’s gotten a lot heavier than he used to be, and I couldn’t just get up with him on top of me.  Plus he was holding my arms and I had mine around him.  Then he kissed me.  It wasn’t one of those sexy turn on kisses.  It was one of those “I love you” kisses.  And I kissed him back, and then we just sat and hugged for awhile more.  

Finally Philip said, “Are you all right?”

I said, “Yeah.  Are you?”

He said he was, and we both knew we were OK.  But I had a deep sadness in my heart, knowing what he had suffered, and that crazy feeling that it was my fault for not being there to protect him.  I guess that just comes from how much I love the boy.

Philip said, “You know, I actually feel better now, better about it than I have since it happened.  I guess this is why Dr. Long wanted me to talk about it.  I don’t think I need to tell anyone else, though.  It’s not like I’ll ever forget about it, but I think I can just kind of set it aside and not bother with it in my head any more.”

Then he looked at me again, and said, “Ferris, you can’t let yourself think you have to get back at them for me.  I really can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know you can, Philip, but I still feel that way.”

“Well, you can feel that way, but you can’t act that way.  You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I get it.  I can feel like I have to protect you but I don’t have to actually do it.  Which frustrates the hell out of me, you know.”

“I know.  But we’ve both come a long way this year.  You’ve accepted that you’re gay, and you’re OK with it.  I’ve accepted that I can be gay without being a wimp.  Plus I’ve got muscles now.”  He flexed his biceps, which I now was holding in my hands.  He felt strong and powerful under my grip and I admired his tight body by running my hands up and down his arms, and then down his chest to his abs and back up and around his back.  “Plus, I’ve got you.  So we don’t have to do anything about the past, right?”

“Right.”  My wandering hands returned to his front and found the snap of his jeans.  I opened it and slid my hand inside until I found his cock.  He was soft, and that was fine.  I just held him, and he did the same thing to me, and we just sat and held each other, safe together, in love, and at peace.  I was sad about what had happened to Philip, but happy about what was happening to us now.


A few weeks later, I was spending the weekend at Philip’s.  His parents were away overnight again and we were looking forward to spending the night together.  That afternoon, we were walking through the park, on the path by the tennis courts and b’ball hoops, when Philip stopped dead in his tracks.  “What’s wrong?”  I asked him.

“It’s him.  The boy I kicked in the balls.  After the rape.  Let’s go the other way.”

But before we could change course, the dude saw us, or saw Philip, more accurately, and he froze, just like Philip had a moment ago.  We couldn’t go the other way now.  We had to face him.  My heart was beating like crazy all of a sudden, and Philip grabbed my arm.  The boy looked around, probably hoping for some backups.  But he was alone.  Then he started to back away from us as we walked toward him.  He looked scared.  We had him cornered:  there was the b’ball fence behind him on two sides, and the tennis practice wall on the third.  He was still a big jock, but we were pretty good sized ourselves now, and there were two of us.

“Dude, don’t hurt me, OK?  Look, I’m sorry about that time at the Y, I really am.  It wasn’t my idea, it was Kyle’s, you know?  We were just fooling around.  I didn’t want to do it, it just kind of got out of hand.  Don’t kick me, please don’t kick me.”  He was cowering in front of us, one hand in front to fend us off, the other cupping his crotch.

“You absolute scum bag,” Philip said.  “You know what you did to me.  You practically killed me that day.  You practically destroyed my rectum.  Do you have any idea how bad you hurt me?  Do you?”

The boy’s face was wide-eyed in fear and totally drained of color.  He started to tremble.  “Look, I’m sorry, I really am sorry.  I’ll make it up to you, I swear.  I’ll do anything you want.  I’ll pay you money.  I’ll give you anything you want.  Just don’t kick me, please.  Don’t kick me in the balls again.”

Philip kicked his sneakers off and moved into the ready position for action, and the boy cringed even more.  I didn’t know what he was planning to do but I was ready to help, whatever it was.

“Maybe you need to learn how bad you hurt me,” he said.  “Maybe that’s what you can do to make it up to me.  Maybe you need to learn what it feels like to have a big hard cock shoved up your ass.”  He moved closer to the cowering boy.  “Drop your pants.  Right now.  Do it.”

I looked at Philip with alarm.  Was he actually planning to fuck the boy?  He appeared dead calm and had a horrible mean look on his face that I’d never seen before.  In fact, this was my boyfriend as I’d never seen him before.  The boy’s hands were shaking so bad he was having trouble getting his jeans open.  Philip approached him even closer and said, “Here, let me help you.”  He yanked the boy’s jeans open and down past his hips, revealing a shrunken cock and scrotum drawn up tight with its single lump.  Philip took it in his hand and squeezed, making the boy yelp.

“You know, maybe after we fuck you, we’ll take care of that other ball.  What do you think, Ferris, should we get rid of it for him?  I could squash it like the other one.  Or we could just cut it off.  You have your pocket knife, don’t you?”  He let go, and to the boy he said, ”Turn around and bend over.”

The boy was so scared when Philip told him to turn and bend over, his bladder gave way and he pissed himself, his pee totally soaking the jeans around his thighs.  He began bawling then, and dropped to his knees on the ground.  “No please, no, don’t kick me again, please don’t, I’ll do anything, I promise, please don’t, please, please don’t cut my ball off.”

Philip aimed a kick in the direction of his face, but pulled it before he made contact.  The boy collapsed further into a fetal position, still trying to protect his remaining ball. Instead of kicking, Philip shoved the boy’s shoulder with his foot, rolling him onto his back, and pulling his hand away from his crotch.  He placed his foot on the boy’s neck and added some pressure.  The boy lay there in terror, totally exposed, totally vulnerable.  

“You know, I could kill him,” Philip remarked to me as if commenting about what a nice day it was.  “I could also destroy his remaining ball.” To the boy, he said, “Can you say ‘eunuch’? That means a man without any balls.  How does that sound to you?  I don’t kill you but I take away your other ball.”

The boy on the ground just whimpered.  I was terrified of what Philip might do.

Then Philip removed his foot, and I started to breathe again.  “But I’m not the slimebag you are, and I’m not going to do it.  You can keep your miserable ball and your miserable life.  You just remember how low you are.  You just remember how close you came.”  He stepped over the terrified boy and pushed his foot against his ball, enough to make the boy gasp.  Then he removed that foot as well.  “You just remember what you did, and you remember what I didn’t do.”  He picked up his sneakers and slipped them on.  “Let’s go Ferris.  This is over.  Completely over.” He took my hand and led me back to the park path.   “Let’s go home.”  I put my arm around his narrow waist and pulled him close.  

“You had me scared back there, you know,” I said as we walked away, leaving the jock to get himself back together.

“I had me scared, too.  At first I was scared that he’d hurt me again.  And then I realized that he was more scared of me than I was of him” he said.  “And then, for a few seconds it was just like it was that day.  When I squashed his ball.  I was only thinking about how I could hurt him.  But seeing him pee himself kind of made me realize what I was doing.  And all of a sudden I knew that if I actually did anything to him, I’d be just as much a scumbag as he was.  So everything after that was an act.”

“But it’s over now, isn’t it?  Really over?”

“Yeah, it really is.  What’s that line we learned in History?  The only thing we have to fear is fear itself?  I guess this was sort of like that.  I guess down deep I was still afraid that those guys could hurt me again.  But now I know they can’t.  I faced my fear and I defeated it.”  He stopped walking and faced me, pulling me against him.  “And I did it with you by my side.  I couldn’t have done it alone.”

Then I kissed him.  Right out in the open, on the path in the park.  And he kissed me back, hard.  The sexy turn-on kind of kiss.  The kind that makes me get hard.  Which I did.  Philip was all over me, or was I all over him?  Doesn’t matter, I guess.  We were both totally turned on and making out big time.  We were in each others’ pants and practically ready to start fucking.  A tiny part of me remembered that it would not be cool to get naked and fuck in the town park at midday, so I pulled back.  “Let’s go home, Philip.  Let’s go home so you can have your way with Ferris your cockboy.  Let’s go home so he can fellate little Philip.”  

“You mean you want me to come with you?” he teased.

“Actually I want you to come in me,” I answered, and we both giggled.  “Let’s go. So we can come.”  We made it home in record time, both of us sporting major wet spots by the time we got there.  The front door had not even shut all the way before Philip had my pants down to my ankles, and I was close behind with his.  Then he paused long enough to peel his tee shirt off, pulling it slowly up his toned chest and over his head the way he knew I loved, and then attacking my own shirt, destroying it in the process.  (Sex with this boy is hard on my tee shirt collection!)   We pulled each other into a hard hug, grinding our hardons against each other, and then Philip asked me what I wanted first.  I told him, and pulled him down to the floor on top of me, and his perfect cock slipped into my welcoming ass, and he jacked me as he fucked me and, setting another record for the afternoon, we both came, him deep inside me, and me all over our chests, and then we lay still, satisfied and spent, boyfriends in love as well as in lust.  I am so glad I’m gay.