Date: Mon, 19 Jan 2004 21:18:24 EST
From: ArtHill579@aol.com
Subject: "High School Blues" part 1

Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction involving humiliation, mild
violence, and sexual activity between teenage boys. The characters do not
represent any real persons. If you find such material offensive or in
violation of the laws of your state/country, please don't read any further.

Breaks in the story (***) indicate major changes of scene/time or of the
character who is narrating or speaking.

(c) Art M. Hill ArtHill579@aol.com All rights reserved (2004).
If you enjoy this story, please email me.

**************************************************

"High School Blues" part 1: Joe's first challenge...

Hi, my name is Joe Crawford. This is the story about what happened to me
when I took the big step from grade school to high school. I had just
turned 15 years old. I was fairly tall and thin, with light brown hair and
hazel eyes. I also wore thick glasses and had a bad case of teenage acne,
that made me look pretty much like a nerd. I enjoyed school and got good
grades. Up to that time, I had gotten along okay with most of my classmates
at school, and had never really been bullied. That's why what happened to
me that September day of my freshman year in high school was a complete
surprise to me, and something I wasn't at all prepared to deal with.

My sister and I grew up in a small town close to the New Jersey shore. My
father was hardly ever home since he worked in New York and had a long
commute. He left the house very early in the morning and got home late in
the evening. Most of the time, then, it was just mom, my sister, and
me. Since there weren't many boys my own age in the neighborhood, and I
didn't have a dad at home to encourage me, I wasn't very athletic.  Still,
I was in fairly good shape, since I worked part time as a stock boy in the
local supermarket.

High School was a new world for me. I was used to a small town grade school
where everybody was pretty much from the neighborhood. Now I was thrown
into a regional school with hundreds of kids, most of whom I had never seen
before. It didn't help that I was kind of shy and found it hard to make new
friends. By that time I also realized that most of the other guys were
really out of my league in sports. I did go out for track, the coach even
telling me that I had real potential. But I never had much interest in it
and didn't follow through. Needless to say, I never became an outstanding
runner.

Since sports are so important for most teenage guys and for the girls who
hang around with them, I found myself becoming more and more of a
loner. The majority of my classmates excluded me from their activities and
even from their conversations between classes and during lunch breaks. I
also started to get picked on by guys who thought I was a wimp. They would
jostle me in the halls, put chewing gum on my seat in class, and mark up my
locker. I was ignored by the girls and had little success in getting
dates. No, my social life was not going too well!

One afternoon after school I was walking down Main Street with a younger
kid I knew who was still in grade school, when I heard a voice behind me
say:

"Hey, there's that pansy Crawford that I was telling you about."

Then I felt a strong hand on my shoulder causing me to stop and turn
around. It was one of my classmates from grade school, a tough dude named
Michael Cunningham. He was a year ahead of me and a real jock. He was
accompanied by another equally well-built guy that I had seen before but
didn't really know. This other guy assumed a boxer's stance with his head
lowered and both of his hands balled into fists, circling menacingly in
front of me.

Since I had never been in a fist fight before, I froze, not knowing what to
do. I was confused as to why this guy wanted to challenge me, and why my
older classmate, who never gave me any trouble before, was calling me names
and trying to get me to fight his buddy. My friend, Billy, who was smaller
than me, just stood off to the side looking like he was in a daze. The
sheer aggressiveness of this dude with his fists held up at me caused me to
panic.

"Why do you want to fight me?" I asked.

"Because you're a damn pansy and I don't like you," he said.

"But you don't even know me. What did I ever do to you?"

"I don't give a royal fuck about that," he said. "I'm gonna kick your ass,
unless you're man enough to stop me." He laughed when he said that, as if
he knew I couldn't defend myself.

"Uh, okay, I'll fight you," I said, "but I have to go to the drug store
first and get something for home."

Well, he didn't want to let me go but, after repeating my story several
times, he said to go ahead but to make sure I came right back unless I was
chicken-shit. He called after me that, since I was going into the drug
store, I should pick up a first aid kit, because when he got through with
me I'd need it.

Once I got in the store, Billy asked me what I was going to do. I wasn't
sure. I had gone in the store to consider my options. Should I stay and
risk getting my nose broken, or should I look for a way to escape. My first
thought was to take the easy way out, and try to get my ass as far away
from there as possible.

"Those kids are a lot bigger than we are," I said to my friend. "Maybe we
should go out the other door and just go home."

"No," he said simply, "I think you gotta go back. They ain't gonna stop
until you face 'em. I'll go with you."

I walked aimlessly through the store, stalling for time as long as I
could. Finally I became ashamed of my own cowardice. I walked out of the
store and into the late afternoon sunlight, seeing the two guys waiting
across the street. I tried to talk myself out of my fear, knowing that if I
didn't face these guys they would probably make my high school years
miserable.

As we crossed the street, I heard the kid I didn't know (his name turned
out to be Jimmy Gannon) say to Mike: "Here he comes. I thought he'd try to
hide or something." Then he started to snicker and yelled: "Hey, pussy, did
you forget the first aid kit? You'd better send your little friend back to
get it. Your gonna need it before I'm through with you, fucker." In spite
of his words, I had to admit that for some reason I was attracted to this
mean dude. He had spiky blond hair, blue eyes, and an arrogance that
complimented his good looks. He was dressed is greasy denim jeans and
jacket, and wore clunky work boots.

Mike immediately took charge of the situation and said we should go into
the empty lot behind one of the buildings and settle this. My friend and I
followed them like puppy dogs into a weedy, overgrown area behind Main
Street.

Then Jimmy turned around and said, "Come on, dude, let's do it!"

In my confusion I didn't see Mike come up behind me and bend down. Jimmy
gave me a hard push and I tripped over Mike, falling heavily on the
ground. The wind was knocked out of me, and while I was trying to recover
Jimmy came flying through the air and landed on top of me, knocking my
glasses off. Soon he was sitting on my chest, putting me in a schoolboy pin
with his knees pressing down on my arms. I groaned in pain. He gave me a
hard slap across the face and asked me what I was going to do now.

"Please let me up," I panted, "I never did anything to you. Let me go."

"I never did anything to you," Jimmy said in a high girlish voice.  "Please
let me go!"  Both he and Mike cracked up.

"Told ya he was a fag, He talks just like a girl!" Mike said to Jimmy.

My face was still stinging from the slap Jimmy had delivered, when he did
it again. He began slapping my cheeks over and over again, rocking my head
back and forth. The whole time he was cursing and calling me names like
"fag" "homo" and "fairy". All I could see was his handsome face (somewhat
blurred without my glasses) staring down at me while the palms of his big
hands connected with my burning face. Mike stood behind Jimmy watching my
humiliation with a smirk on his face.

"Put out his lights, Jimmy," said Mike, "he ain't gonna give you no
trouble."

"Dude, I don't even like to touch him," Jimmy said. "Look at all the zits
on his face; they might be catching. I could feel a bunch of 'em pop when I
slapped him.  Shit!" he said, as he wiped his hands off on my shirt.

I struggled to get him off me, but realized he was much stronger than I
was. I couldn't budge him. Oddly enough, I started to have mixed feelings
about my situation. I was still frightened, but I was also feeling
strangely aroused. Jimmy's warm, muscular body pressing heavily on my
chest, as well as his good looks and commanding presence, began to cause my
cock to stiffen.

I was desperate that these two guys not see the tent rising in my pants,
fearing they would do something worse to me, or spread it around the school
that I really was a homo.  Finally Jimmy said: "Do you give?"

"Yes," I said desperately, "you win. Please let me up."

"Not so fast," he said. "You're gonna do what we say from now on, or I'll
take that pretty little face of yours and shove it up your ass. You got
that?"

"Yeah," Mike said, "and then we'll tell everybody at school what a fag you
are."

For a moment I was silent, almost in a trance.

"I didn't hear you, fucker!" Jimmy said angrily.

"Yes!" I said, as tears began to form in my eyes. "I got it."

"Aw, look at the little girl crying. I bet she wants her mommy!" Before
letting me go, Jimmy grabbed my shirt by the collar, slapped me a couple
more times, and then spit right in my face. He got up, booted me in the
ribs a couple of times, and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute," Mike said. "I want this pansy to lick my sneakers."

Jimmy grinned and said, "Yeah, so do I. Get over hear, Crawford, and start
licking."

After a moment's hesitation, I began to crawl over to Mike, but I guess I
didn't move fast enough, because Jimmy kicked me right in the ass. I went
sprawling in the dust. With both of them laughing and telling me to move
it, I scrambled over to Mike's feet. My face was burning from the slaps and
the embarrassment of what they were making me do.  My butt ached and felt
almost numb from the kick. Mike was wearing tattered washed out jeans and
scuffed up white high-tops.

"Lick, you freak," he said, "or I'll beat the shit out of you."

I started to lick the dust off of his sneakers while Jimmy said, "Look at
this guy, can you believe what he's doing? How low can ya get?"

"I told you he was a damn homo," Mike said. "He's so fuckin' scared he'll
do anything so we don't beat him up any more. Well, maybe we'll just do it
anyway.  I'm gonna think about it."

I continued to lick all around the tops of Mike's shoes. Then he told me to
turn over and shoved the dirty tread on the bottom of the sneaker in my
face and told me to lick it clean.  It was covered with grit and pebbles
from the road, and I choked and gagged as my tongue came in contact with
god only knows what.

"Swallow it, Crawford" he said.

After I had licked both of Mike's sneakers, I had to do the same for
Jimmy's oil stained boots. He had a glob of something greasy on the bottom
of one of his boot treads which tasted like tar, and I started to wretch as
I licked it off. Finally when they finished humiliating me they walked off
and said:

"See you at school tomorrow, fairy."

"Wait a minute!" I shouted, "where are my glasses?"

"Oh, you mean these things?" Jimmy said. I could just make out the thick
black frames swinging from his left hand.

"Yeah," I said, "Please give them back. I really need them. Please!"

"Tomorrow, four eyes. You'll get 'em back tomorrow if you ask me real
nice. Otherwise I might have an accident with them," he chuckled. They both
disappeared around the corner, still laughing.

I got up looking for my friend who seems to have disappeared during the
scuffle. I was grateful that we had been in a pretty private place and no
one else had witnessed my humiliation. Then I dusted myself off and began
to walk home. I was wondering about the boner I still had and needed to
rearrange several times in my pants.  Luckily I didn't have any obvious
bruises that I would have to explain to my parents. Of course, all that
might change tomorrow at school. I wasn't exactly looking forward to it.

**************************************

I had known this guy Crawford through most of grade school. He got pretty
good grades so I guess he was smart. But he was a wimp when it came to
sports and had almost no friends. When we had lunch out on the playgrounds
he was always standing off by himself. He was timid like a girl and hardly
said a word if you spoke to him. He couldn't play football, baseball, or
basketball worth shit and when we were choosin' up teams he was always the
last to be picked. Nobody wanted him on their team. He was a loser.

All the chicks got turned off by his looks and the way he acted, and none
of them wanted to go out with him. Whenever he asked one of them to go to a
school dance or something they always had an excuse-like they had to stay
home and wash their hair.

Anyway, this guy bugged me and I started thinking about hasseling him. I
didn't do anything, though, until we started high school. I saw him with
some other little shit walking down Main Street one day, and decided to see
what he was made of.  My friend Jimmy was with me and after I told him
about the wimp, he wanted to be the one to break him in, which was fine
with me. Well, the wimp reacted just about the way I expected- scared to
death of Jimmy's challenge. He looked for a way out but we wouldn't give it
to him.

Finally we got him in one of the vacant lots and made short work of him.
Jimmy sat on him, slapped him around until he said "Give" and then told him
that he would do anything we wanted him to do. Naturally he agreed. Then I
noticed he had a boner and realized that he was a faggot as well as a
coward. This was gonna be fun.

Well I decided to see just how far I could push the fag, so I told him to
clean my dirty Nikes with his tongue. To my complete amazement he did
it. No arguments, no excuses.  He just stuck out his tongue and started
licking-the bottoms too. It was hilarious. Then he did Jimmy's boots. Now
we knew we had him. I took the faggot's glasses so he would have to beg for
them tomorrow. Jimmy and I walked away in disbelief.

"Hey dude," I said to Jimmy. "This freak is gonna be our toy this year. I
intend to really fuck with his head.

"Yeah," said Jimmy laughing. "Wait until the guys hear about this. We're
gonna have us a walking punchin' bag, and he can't do anything about it."

(to be continued)