Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2008 08:00:13 -0700 (PDT) From: Jasper Cooper Subject: The Downfall of Nate Ramsey (authoritarian) THE DOWNFALL OF NATE RAMSEY This story is a gay fantasy; no part of it is based in fact, and none of the characters are intended to resemble real persons. This story chronicles the humiliating ordeals an 18- year-old high school senior is unwillingly subjected to. Some of these humiliations have a strong sexual component. This chapter is hopefully the first of a few, and it mainly deals with setting the scene for further humiliation. If you are underage, or do not want to read about such matters, you should leave this webpage at once. Assuming you do not fall into either category (and you should not made it this far if you did), I bid you: onward! -------------------------- CHAPTER ONE: "Fools and their clothes are soon parted" Nathan Ramsey never saw it coming. One moment, he was a rising star in his high school, envied by his peers for his basketball prowess and the ease with which he drew the lustful attentions of countless girls. The next, he was a laughing stock among his peers, stripped of not only his clothes, but also his dignity. It all began with a bet. Nate and his basketball teammates were gathered on the court in the wooded park near their school. They were playing more for fun than for practice; it was a Friday, they had a long weekend ahead of them, and no one was in the mood for a serious game so soon after their latest victory. The previous weekend, the team had advanced to the semifinals after a hard-fought game with their biggest rivals, the Beavers. Their win had come almost at the last minute, and it had been Nate who had scored the winning point. No one denied that he had been an integral factor to their triumph; however, not everyone was pleased to hear him brag about it afterward, especially when he claimed full credit for the winning shot, to the exclusion of the other players who had made it possible. On any other day, and in any other situation, the team might have cut him some slack. It was Nate after all, arguably the team's star player. And who didn't tend to exaggerate one's own prowess, especially when there were girls around waiting to be impressed? But this time it was different: there were no girls on the sidelines, only a group of freshmen players who were listening to Nate's embellished narrative with awed looks on their faces. If Nate were allowed to continue, they weren't going to have any respect for the other players. That was the final straw. "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, Ramsey?" said Owen Montrose, a senior not renowned for his patience, least of all with Nate. Owen's first girlfriend had dumped him for Nate, a fact that Nate didn't hesitate to rub his nose in. If anyone had a grudge against Nate, it would be the tall, pale-skinned redhead. The few players who were actually playing stopped abruptly. All eyes were on Nate, wondering how he would respond to Owen's taunt. The air was suddenly rife with tension. Nate turned to face Owen, his eyes narrowed. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean, Monty?" Owen's face flushed with anger; no one ever called him Monty. He clenched his fists but managed to control himself from retaliating physically. Stepping closer to Nate, he sneered, "Well, since you're apparently such a dimwit, I'll explain my meaning to you." This time it was Nate's turn to look furious. Ignoring him, Owen continued, "Without the rest of this team, you couldn't have scored that winning point - or any point for that matter." "Oh yeah?" Nate sneered back. The group of devoted freshman at his back gave him confidence. "I could've flattened those Beavers flying solo. Hell, I could beat any team by myself - this one included. And let's face it Monty, I'm not just talking about on the court." Owen's face contorted into an ugly mask of rage and he took another step forward. The rest of the team, who'd been quietly observing thus far, now crowded behind him. From the disgusted looks on his teammates' faces, it suddenly occurred to Nate that his remark about being able to beat their own team hadn't been the smartest thing to say. He would've taken it back, except that it would have meant losing face with his freshman fans, who were also watching the argument intently. And that was one thing he couldn't afford to do. Things would probably have gotten ugly, if Wes Stanford hadn't intervened. In his capacity as team captain, the handsome blond teenager took it upon himself to mediate the matter to a peaceful conclusion. Nate had always considered himself to be the prime candidate for the captaincy, and had therefore been surprised when the coach had chosen Wes over him. Nate had overlooked a key fact: Wes, although not as talented as Nate, was a team player, and far more popular among his teammates. The coach had privately thought that Nate was far too arrogant, and that the captaincy would only serve to alienate him further from the team. As it turned out, he'd already done that. Nate also didn't know one other thing about Wes, and that was that he was bisexual. In fact, no one knew that. Wes's blond good looks had attracted his fair share of female admirers, although he was by no means the hottest boy in the senior year. No, that was an honor that belonged to Nate. Jet-black hair coupled with intense blue eyes marked a strong, angular face. And then there was that body ... Nate was notoriously shy when it came to revealing that beautiful body, even in the locker rooms. He always changed with a towel around his waist, and when he showered it was always in the end cubicle. Many a boy, straight ones included, had longed to sneak a peek over to cubicle wall to see what Nate was hiding, but not dared to lest they be labeled as `fags'. A malicious rumor claimed that he was less than adequately endowed, but the bulge in his pants said differently. Wes was one of those boys. Nate had fascinated him for a very long time. The first time he'd realized he was attracted to men as well as women, was when he'd been jerking off and an image came to his mind. Nate, hot and sweaty after a practice, wearing only a towel slung low on his hips ... In his mind's eye he could see the rivulets of sweat making their way down Nate's chiseled torso, between the hard ridges of his abs, pooling in his navel before following the trail of fine, dark hair that led down to what was, until that day, a treasure of his wildest imaginings. Wes had cum right then, and he had known. Ever since then, he had made every effort to catch Nate in various states of undress without seeming too obvious. The one time he had found Nate about to slip off his tight, white boxer-briefs in an empty locker room was a fond memory he replayed over and over during his jerk-off fantasies. Of course, Nate had hurriedly reached for a towel once he saw Wes come in, and Wes had not seen more than the top of Nate's muscular butt and a couple inches of his hairy crack. But still the memory of it was sufficient to give Wes a hard- on, and he was glad for the jockstrap he had on underneath his basketball kit which keeping his shorts from tenting lewdly. Despite the tense atmosphere, Wes allowed his eyes to briefly rake Nate's purple basketball vest and saw the lightly-tanned, well-defined chest that lay beneath it. Flicking his gaze downwards he caught the bulge in the thin material of Nate's yellow shorts and subconsciously licked his lips. If he played this right, his fantasy could very shortly become a reality. "Come on guys, let's not fight. We can settle this amicably," he said finally. Owen hesitated; only his respect for the popular captain's authority prevented him from ripping Nate a new one. "Yeah? How?" he asked. "A one-on-one game," Wes replied calmly. "We're basketball players, right? So we'll settle this like basketball players." The rest of the team nodded their agreement, and Wes continued, "If Nate is the first guy to score ten points against a team representative, then we'll acknowledge his basketball skill as superior." Relief washed over Nate. He was confident in his abilities against any of his teammates and had little doubt that he would win this game, although he did wonder who the team representative would be. It seemed the question was also on his teammates' minds. "Who's gonna represent the team?" asked Dave, one of the juniors on the team. "I will," said Owen at once. He threw Nate a dirty look. "I can't wait to wipe the floor with this son of a bitch." Wes had anticipated this, and he also knew Owen didn't stand a chance against Nate. However, he did take note of Owen's enthusiasm to bring Nate down, and decided he might just have found himself an ally. But for now he needed to fight this battle himself. "I think it's best if our representative doesn't have a personal grudge against Nate. In the interest of fairness, you know." He gave Owen an apologetic look before adding, "And since I'm the team captain, and it was me that suggested this solution ..." He looked around at his teammates for support. Jason, a friend of Wes's on the team, spoke up. "I support Wes as our representative." The rest of the team slowly nodded their assent. The majority of them were concerned as to whether any candidate could actually beat Nate, and whether they were doomed to acknowledge Nate's superiority on the court. Wes turned back to Nate and smiled. "Well then, it's agreed. You and me, one-on-one." "Hold on a sec," interrupted Troy, the openly gay member of the team. "What's his forfeit if he loses?" Wes's smile widened imperceptibly; his plan was falling into place. Nate, meanwhile, felt a faint trepidation when he had no cause to. Wes shrugged casually, making his suggestion of the forfeit with calculated carelessness. "The loser has to run one lap around the park ..." Nate let out the breath he had not realized he was holding, before it dawned on him that such a simple feat could hardly be the extent of the forfeit. He was right; Wes was not finished. "... naked." As Wes completed his sentence, Nate had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Of all the possible forfeits, why did it have to be that one? Putting on an air of bravado he decided to protest. "That's a little unbalanced, don't you think? If you lose, all you have to do is say a few words, but if I lose, I have to strip naked?" Wes had been expecting this argument, and had readied himself for it. "Well if it makes you happy, I'm prepared to strip if I lose." He wasn't lying either; all the guys on the court had seen him naked in the locker rooms before. And it was a small price to pay, if the reverse outcome would have the object of his fantasy naked and vulnerable. "So, we're agreed then?" Nate had no choice but to nod. He couldn't back away from the bet because it would seem like he was afraid of losing. And that was obviously not going to happen. He'd win, and then that smartass Wes would be the one to get naked. It would serve him right, for thinking up that dumb forfeit in the first place, not to mention robbing him of his rightful captaincy. "Agreed," he said tightly. "Jase, do you want to be the referee?" asked Wes, and received a nod in reply. He turned back to Nate and tossed the ball at him. "Let's do this then." &&&&& Half an hour later Nate wondered where it had all gone wrong. He'd been surprised to find Wes was pretty evenly matched with him, although he'd still had the upper hand. But the knot of nervousness in his stomach, the thought at the back of his mind about the consequences of his loss, distracted him more than he realized. And Wes was playing harder than he'd ever done in his life. After all, he had the strongest motivation: Nate's ass was a far sweeter prize than any interschool trophy. Wes's winning slam dunk was greeted with cheers from the spectators, and horror from Nate. He'd lost ... and he'd have to strip naked. Naked in front of players who'd be delighted to see him taken down a peg or two, naked in front of freshmen who'd been his adoring fans only moments ago. He didn't notice he was surrounded again by the other players. "Looks like you have a forfeit to pay up," said Owen, not bothering to hide his smirk. Nate laughed nervously. "C'mon guys, you weren't serious about running round the park naked, right?" His only reply was hard stares. He swallowed nervously and looked around, for any sign of sympathy, but there was none. Nate had been a jerk one time too many. Even the freshmen were eager to see the arrogant jock have his comeuppance. Maybe he wouldn't have to strip all the way. Just down to his underwear. Naked in the context of bets usually meant underwear was allowed, right? But even as he thought that his heart sank. Today of all days he'd chosen to forgo his customary boxers for his only pair of bikini briefs. They provided better support for sports, but they were also much skimpier: the inch-thick waistband was the only material at the sides. "Dude, we don't have all day!" snapped Parker, shaking him out of his reverie. Troy waggled his eyebrows suggestively at him. "Or are we going to have to strip you ourselves?" There were some snickers at this, and Nate found himself turning red. "Fuck you," he mumbled, and reached for the hem of his vest. There was a collective intake of breath among the crowd; he was actually going to do it! Nate pulled the vest over his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing as he did so. No one would admit it to him - he was cocky enough as it was - but Nate's abs were a thing of beauty. Each abdominal muscle was rock hard and perfectly formed, with a very light dusting of fine black hair. The treasure trail grew thicker below his navel and bisected the V of his Apollo's belt before disappearing into the waistband of his briefs. Not for the first time did the guys think that Nate had a perfectly proportioned body; it was a pity he was such an ass. Nate tossed the vest aside, trying his best to pretend nonchalance. Wes noted with amusement (and a rush of blood to his groin) that the large, dark nipple that crowned each of Nate's sculptured pecs was slightly erect due to the evening chill. The smattering of hair in the middle of his chest was plastered to his skin by sweat. Nate kicked off his shoes without looking up from his feet. He couldn't meet the gazes of his fellow players, for he could already feel their contempt without seeing it. For the first he wished he had been a little less arrogant, and a little more sympathetic. He might have had some supporters if he had. But the truth was he didn't, and that left him on a basketball court, wearing just his shorts and surrounded by a bunch of guys who had every reason to dislike him. He took a deep breath (and the crowd with him) and shoved his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts. Whatever he did, he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much this got to him. "Get a move on already," said Ethan impatiently. "It's getting cold." "I think Nathaniel is a little shy," remarked Owen slyly. Nate furiously shoved his shorts down in one quick motion, revealing the form-fitting black bikini briefs he had on underneath. But if he'd hoped to silence his detractors, he was wrong. The removal of his shorts was greeted with raucous cheers and a couple of wolf-whistles. "Sexy undies there, Ramsey," smirked Drew. Wes had a fabulous view of Nate's side profile and eyed it with approval. The color rose in Nate's cheeks, and he gritted his teeth as he stepped out of his shorts and slipped his shoes back on. "Alright, let's get this over with." He started to move across the court, towards the jogging trail that wound through the park, but the line of basketball players in front of him didn't give way. "Uh, you do know what `naked' means, don't you, Ramsey? Or are you really that much of a dimwit?" asked Owen, baring his teeth in a smile not unlike a wolf that has scented its prey. Nate shot an incredulous look at his nemesis. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. You don't expect me to cross the park in the nude!" "I'm afraid that's exactly what we expect," replied Owen. "You made the bet, you've got to honor it," pointed out Troy. Nate looked from one guy to another, and then said, "Fuck you guys. I'll do the one lap because that's what I promised, but that's it. No way am I doing it naked." He turned back to the guys blocking the way to the jogging trail. "Now let me through, so I can get this over with." It happened so fast that Nate didn't know what hit him. The moment he tried to push his way out, at least half a dozen guys pounced on him, tackling him to the floor. He struggled wildly against them, trying to prevent them for ripping off the sole garment that protected his modesty, but he was no match for so many of his fellow players intent on their purpose of stripping him completely. Wes stood aside, not part of the skirmish on the floor, but close enough to be able to savour every detail: the muscles in Nate's powerful thighs straining as he tried to fight off his assailants, the black thatch of pubic hair so tantalizingly revealed every time the briefs slipped ... and the ultimate prize, when they were wrenched off completely, with a victorious cry, by Owen. Nate's struggles ceased the moment he felt the cool air embrace his genitals. He knew the battle had been lost, and he was naked in front of the people who had looked up to him - perhaps they had also hated him - but they had been grudgingly impressed nonetheless. His cheeks burned red with shame as the shock wore off, as he heard the raucous laughter, the lewd comments: "I see why you've been hiding that thing, Ramsey." "Sure you aren't feeling cold?" "That's a bloody forest you've got down there." He wished the ground would open up and swallow him. He had always tried, and succeeded, in avoiding public nudity. It was just something so intensely private that he did not feel comfortable about being naked in front of other guys. And to have that comfort stripped from him so unceremoniously, in front of twenty of his peers in the middle of what was usually his domain, was the ultimate indignity. Wes, meanwhile, had discreetly observed that despite the mean-spirited remarks, Nate was quite adequately endowed. His dick lay limp against his left thigh, at least five and a half inches long and its thickness was certainly above average. Nate was circumcised, like many of their generation. There was a thick thatch of black pubic hair surrounding his dick. Wes was quite disappointed that, when the guys released Nate's hands, he quickly moved them to cover his groin. Nate scrambled to his feet, keeping his hands firmly over his crotch, and demanded, "Give back my clothes, you bastards!" Owen tutted. "Language, Nathaniel, language." He casually tossed Nate's briefs into the air and caught it again. Nate snarled and rushed at Owen, but the other guys were quicker, moving forward to shield Owen. Nate saw that anger wasn't going to win him back his clothes. He tried again. "Okay, guys, you've had your laugh. Now can I please have my clothes back?" Wes decided it was time to retake control of the situation. "What do you guys think?" he asked, looking around the circle. How the rest of Nate's humiliation played out depended on their response. He stifled his sigh of relief when almost every single guy shook his head. He turned back to Nate with an apologetic expression on his face. "Sorry, Nate - no can do. Maybe if you complete your end of the forfeit ..." Nate gulped. "You mean ... run one lap round the park?" Wes nodded. "I can't!" protested Nate. "I'm naked! What if someone sees me?" "Uh, Nate? Maybe you didn't notice, but you've just been seen naked by twenty guys," pointed out Troy with a grin. The reminder made Nate blush again, and he opened his mouth to plead his case once more. Before he could, Jason cut in. "Look, Nate. The faster you finish the lap, the faster you can get your clothes back." Nate realized Jason was right; the longer he stood there arguing, the more likely someone was to come across the scene. He knew better than to expect sympathy from a crowd eager to witness his downfall. Without a word, he turned around, and this time, the circle parted to allow him through. He took a deep breath, working up his nerve, and then took off jogging. Wes admired the unobstructed view of Nate's ass (he was choosing to keep his hands firmly glued in front his crotch. Watching those pale, muscular globes bouncing with every step that he took, Wes's dick grew achingly hard. The desire to stick his dick up that ass was even more intense. "Maybe someone should follow him, make sure he actually completes the lap. You know, not take any shortcuts?" piped up one of the freshmen suddenly, a rather short but very cute blond by the name of Devlin. Wes doubted that Nate would deviate from the jogging trail; it was getting dark and he didn't have a stitch of clothing on except for his shoes and socks. But he saw the hopeful look in Devlin's eyes and suspected the proposition had more to do with watching that fuckable ass in motion, than ensuring Nate's strict adherence to the terms of their bet. He smiled; who was he to deny such a request? "Actually, that's a good idea. Troy, maybe you want to go with him?" Troy looked surprised at the mention of his name, but grinned widely as he realized the view he would be enjoying. "Sure, boss. C'mon Dev, we'd better catch up." The two boys jogged off in pursuit of Nate, who had disappeared from sight as the trail went deeper into the woods. Wes heard the sound of laughter and quickly found for its source. Owen and a few friends were laughing over something in the branches of a nearby tree. Following their gaze he saw Nate's bikini briefs hanging where they had been tossed, no doubt by Owen. Wes's brow furrowed; Owen was his best bet of gaining an ally in extending Nate's humiliation beyond the court, and getting a shot at that ass, but how could he bring it about? The ringing of a cell phone distracted him from his thoughts. He looked down and saw Nate's bag at his feet. Not really paying attention to what he was doing, he crouched down and extricated Nate's phone from the bag. He had received a text message. As he read it his eyes widened, and so did his grin. It could not have been better! Lady Luck was shining down upon him. "Hey Wes, what do you think about tossing the rest of Nate's clothes up the tree?" asked Owen. "Yeah, can you imagine the Youtube video we could get of him trying to get them down?" "In his birthday suit!" added Drew. Not to be outdone, Parker came up with a rhyme. "Nathan Ramsey, climbing up a tree, B-U-C-K N-A-K-" Everyone around him was shaking with laughter before he could finish the hilariously bad rhyme. Wes smiled at them, the best he could without appearing to be condescending. Really, their ideas were so childish with no long-term planning. He was going to change that. "Actually guys, maybe you need to have a look at this." He showed the text message to Owen and the guys who'd gathered around curiously. Owen looked up from the screen, eyes bright. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Wes affected innocence. "You tell me, man." The grin on Owen's face grew wider. "I say let's bring the son of a bitch down another peg or two." As he heard the chorus of cheers Wes smiled inwardly. Things were going even better than he could've hoped for in his wildest dreams. The downfall of Nate Ramsey was not over, not by a long shot. To be continued (?) If you liked the story and would like to read more, do let me know at jax.cooper@yahoo.com ---------------------------------- Copyright 2008 Jasper X. Cooper. All Rights Reserved.