Date: Fri, 30 Jan 2004 22:58:09 EST
From: Tamb803@aol.com
Subject: "High School Blues" part 6

Disclaimer: This story is basically a fantasy involving humiliation, mild
violence, and sexual activity between teenage boys. If you find such
material offensive or in violation of the laws of your state/country,
please don't read any further.

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

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


"High School Blues" part 6: Joe gets cleaned up...

I was relieved when the guys all pushed out the door (Okay, I was checking
them out!)  and ran for the pool, leaving me alone with Mike, who gave me
instructions on cleaning the guys' boots. He told me that since all the
other guys had taken off their clothes, it was only fair that I should
strip too. Reluctantly I took off my clothes while Mike watched
intently. When my cock popped out hard as nails he laughed.

"I was hanging around to see how excited you were gonna get over my buddies
in the buff. Obviously you got a first class boner. I knew you were a
fag. I could tell when you were on the bike riding behind me. Besides you
almost creamed in your pants when Jimmy stuck his foot up you ass at school
the other day.

"It's not that," I protested weakly. I knew I was blushing. "It's just that
I get horny a lot these days. I'm not gay."

"Sure, Zits," Mike said with a smile. "It's kind of funny how you always
get a boner when we're around. I guy can't help but get the idea you got
the hots for him."

I was silent. He laughed again. "That's okay, Zits, you can't help
yourself. Just keep your hands off if you know what's good for you."

His comment about the size of my penis (which was only about 5 " inches
when hard) did nothing for my self-confidence. I began to blush again, as I
listened to Mike's mocking laughter. He told me to get to work and that I'd
better be there when they came back since we were all gonna play a game
together. After Mike left, I seriously considered going home. I had no
desire to "play a game" with them, suspecting that it would be some form of
humiliation directed against me. Again my natural timidity stopped me. What
would happen at school the next day if I didn't hang around? They would
probably all be after me and things would be worse than before. No, I would
just have to stay and do what they told me to do until they got tired and
let me go home.

I could hear them yelling and splashing around in the pool as I padded into
the house to look for the cleaning supplies. I found them quickly in the
small closet where Mike had directed me. Since I was very thirsty I went
into the kitchen and grabbed another Coke from the frig, thinking that I
might not be offered another one later.  Then I sat down in the middle of
seven pairs of motorcycle boots of various styles, sizes, and colors. The
only thing similar about them all was that they all were covered with fresh
mud from their owners' earlier racing around the field.

I started on Mike's boots which he had placed nearest to the chair where I
had been sitting. My cock immediately began to rise as I picked up the
dirty boot.  I wasn't really surprised by my feelings. I had gotten a boner
the other day when I was forced to lick Mike's and Jimmy's feet to avoid
getting further beaten up. The boots fascinated me.  They were like pure
masculinity: powerful, confident, aggressive. Before starting my cleaning
job I took the boot and began to rub it on my face. The feel and smell of
the warm, smooth leather, broken in places by stitching and straps, was
intoxicating. I placed the muddy tread of the boot directly on my face,
imagining that, like the other day, Mike's foot was inside it. Then I took
a deep whiff as I placed the top of the boot over my face. My cock was now
rock hard and I was afraid I might ejaculate spontaneously.  Guiltily I
looked around to see if any of the guys were watching me or coming back to
the porch. Luckily, I was still alone and no one could see me since the
pool was off to the side of the house.

I figured I'd better get moving since I had seven pairs of boots to
clean. I carefully wiped and buffed each boot making sure all the mud was
off of them. I buffed and buffed until they almost looked brand new. I
couldn't resist one more whiff when I had finished and again tipped Mike's
boot up to my nose. I seemed to go into a trance, with the dark and dank
interior of the boot becoming my whole world for a few moments. When I
finally laid the boot down and looked up, I saw several grinning faces
staring at me-including Mike and Jimmy. Damn!

"Well, Zits," Mike said, "I can see that you like our clothes as well as
our bods! Maybe we should give you a permanent job as boot cleaner. What do
you guys think?" he said, as the rest of them arrived. Most of them looked
disgusted that anyone would do something so low as to sniff a dirty, used
boot. Several of them even looked pissed like I had somehow defiled their
clothes by using them to get a boner. Shawn and Brad were especially upset.

"This little faggot needs to be taught a lesson," Shawn said, "I think I'm
gonna beat the shit out of him. What the fuck, cunt! Don't ya have any
shame. You're such a pervert, sniffin' our boots. I don't think I wanna
touch them any more. I think I'm gonna make you buy me a new pair, but
first I'm gonna kick your ass!" I was speechless in fear and humiliation.

"Hold on dudes," Mike said, "let's go ahead with what we planned and then
we'll see about Shawn and Zits squaring off. If we do it, we can use the
setup I got in the basement. But first, Zits, it's time for a bath. Maybe
you got those zits because you don't wash your face enough."

With that they all grabbed me and carried me out the door. I was
struggling, but was no match for those muscular dudes. Probably one of them
could have taken me and I was up against seven. As they carried me I
couldn't help pressing against their warm muscular arms and chests and soon
was off to the races again. The guys didn't miss the opportunity to point
out what a horny homo I was.

They had reached the pool. "Well," said Jimmy, "this ought to cool off the
fucker." With that they swung me in wider and wider circles and finally
threw me into the pool. The cold water hit me like a bomb and I broke the
surface screaming.

"Listen to him," Shawn said, "he sounds just like a girl. Hey babe, how's
the water?  Don't ya think you should cover up your boobs?" Everybody
cracked up at that.

They had thrown me in the deep end of the pool and I began to swim toward
the shallow end. I was a decent swimmer and was not in any danger of
sinking. The guys followed me around the pool and prevented me from getting
out.

"Hey, babe," yelled Brad, "you look real lonely in there. Ya want some
company?" With that all of the guys yelled like crazy and jumped in the
pool. I took off for the other end but some of them ran around and
canonballed me from in front. At that point they had completely surrounded
me. Now I began to get frightened, not knowing what they had planned. Shawn
was mad enough before to challenge me to a fight. Was it possible they
might try to drown me?...Well they didn't drown me, but almost. Each took
turns dunking my head under water, grabbing me by the hair or shoulders or
putting me in a headlock, pushing or pulling me down. I came up sputtering
and gasping for breath.  Finally Mike said:

"Okay, okay, that's enough. Damn I think his zits do look better!"
Everyone laughed and dragged me out of the pool. I was utterly exhausted
and could hardly move. Laughing, they threw me a towel to dry off.

"Hey Mike," yelled Shawn, "tell the fucker to put his clothes back on. I
don't want to have to look at that faggot little boner of his."

I was marched roughly back to the porch where I was told to get dressed
Then my captors ordered me down to the basement with all of them marching
down behind me.  At first it looked as if Shawn and I were going to put the
gloves on (Mike had a rather crude boxing ring set up in the basement) and
go at each other for real. I was relieved when I heard they had other
plans-at least for now. I couldn't help but admire Shawn's tight body and
bulging guns which, I'm sure, would make short work of me in the ring.

"Looks like your ass is saved for now, pussy," Shawn spit out. "Mike and
Jimmy have something else in mind for now, something real special. You're
gonna love it. But I'm not finished with you. We'll be in that ring one day
real soon," he said, balling his fists and smacking them together.

I didn't understand what they had planned until I saw Mike with an electric
clippers used in barber shops. "It's pretty hot these days, Zits, so we
thought we'd help you stay cool.  What do you think about that, faggot?"
They had laid me out on an adjustable work table with my head hanging off
the end, which they elevated. Shawn and Brad were holding on to me to make
sure I didn't move. Tod and Phil were bracing my head.  Suddenly I realized
that they planned to cut my hair!

"Please Mike," I begged, "I'm sorry about the boots. I got them all real
clean. I didn't mean to do anything else. Please don't cut off my
hair. I'll do anything you want.  Anything!"

"Well," said Mike, "I may just take you up on that offer. But right now I'm
gonna make sure you understand your place and what happens when you screw
up. Tod, Phil, hold the sides of his head so he doesn't move."

With that Mike plugged in the clippers and turned the switch on. There was
a soft hum coming from the machine indicating that it was ready for use or
abuse. I had always enjoyed going to the barber's for a haircut. It was
relaxing and made you feel good. I doubted if I was going to feel good
after this.

I tried one more desperate plea. "Mike, don't do this. Please don't." I was
beginning to blubber and the guys drew closer to watch the wimp start to
bawl.

"Whoa, dudes," said Brad, "this pussy is gonna cry like a little girl.
What's the matter Zits, don't you want to look good? We're gonna give you a
great haircut.  Everyone in school will be jealous when they see how good
you look. Go ahead Mike."

"No," Jimmy interrupted, "let me do it. I was thinkin' about becoming a
barber once."

"Like hell you were," Mike laughed. "Well, why not? You're his best friend
these days."  That brought another howl from the guys as Mike handed over
the clippers in Jimmy.

"Now, Zits," said Jimmy, "just relax and enjoy this. You're in the hands of
a master."  More laughter.

I was afraid he might cut me so I didn't move, but let him do what he
wanted. My hair was about medium length, thick and quite straight. As Jimmy
put the clippers to the back of my neck I could feel the cool metal come in
contact with my skin.  Instead of layering it, however, he just traced the
outline of my head. He had set the clippers on the shortest setting, so
that wherever he cut, I would be completely bald. I closed my eyes, held my
breath, and waited for it to be over. I had to admit there was something
sensual about the whole process-especially with Jimmy's big hands moving
around my head and his warm breath on my neck. God, did I get horny over
everything!?

Starting on the right side, he swept the clippers from the back of my neck
all the way over the crown and down to my forehead. He repeated this
maneuver several times. Then he moved to the side and cut all around my ear
making sure to shear my sideburn as well.  I could see the hair falling to
the floor as the clipping progressed. The guys for once were almost
silent. Their eyes were wide as they gazed intently on what was, in effect,
a shearing.

"Awesome, dude," said Brad, almost whispering, "Fucking awesome..."

After Jimmy had finished the right side he repeated the clipping on the
left side, from neck to forehead and then around the ear, giving both sides
the same treatment. Then Mike got some lather and a razor. Jimmy rubbed the
warm lather all over the areas he had shaved and then carefully ran the
razor over most of my head to make sure there was no stubble left. By this
time I was just sniffling, my eyes still closed. He rubbed some lotion over
the shaved parts of my head which stung like hell. Jimmy said it would make
me feel better later on.

"Okay, Zits, you're done and you look great. Next!...How 'bout you Phil?"
Jimmy laughed.

"No fuckin' way," said Phil, "I don't want to look like no freak! But I
gotta admit that's a way cool look for Zits here." With that everyone
started cheering and high-fiving Jimmy.  "Incredible, dude," they
yelled. "Ain't ya gonna show him?"

"Wait a minute, man," Jimmy said. "Got to give it the finishing touch.
Mike, you got a hair brush and some gel?"

Mike got a brush and gel and Jimmy went to work on me again. At first I was
puzzled. I thought he had cut all my hair off, but apparently he hadn't. He
had left something on top. He squeezed out a glob of the gel and worked it
through my hair, taking the excess off with an old dirty towel. Than using
a brush that looked like it belonged to his dog, he began to vigorously
brush the remanents of my hair, first from front to back and then from
bottom to top on both the right and left sides. The guys went into
hysterics.

"Zits, your a new man. Wanna see? Come on!" They almost had to carry me, I
was so disoriented.

There was a mirror on the other side of the basement. Mike flicked a switch
to light up that part of the basement giving me a full view of the "new
me."

I stared at myself in horror as all the guys laughed their asses off, some
of them actually rolling on the floor. I really did look like a
freak. Jimmy had given me a mohawk. I was completely bald on both sides of
my head with a long narrow tuft right down the center, sticking up like a
whisk broom. I held my hands over my face, not believing what I saw.

"You bastard!" I shrieked. "How could you do this to me? You stupid idiot!"
My anger for once had overtaken my timidity, and I screamed out my rage and
shame.

Retribution, of course, was quick in coming. Jimmy launched a powerful
right fist into my gut. He followed it up with a left-right combination
that knocked me to the floor at his feet, huddled in a fetal position. He
kicked me once, twice.

"Don't you ever talk like that to me again, cunt," Jimmy growled. "You're a
freak so you should look like one. Remember what I said about learning your
place. I'm telling you right now, after Shawn beats the hell out of you,
I'll be in line right behind him, and I swear I'll make Shawn's punches
feel like love taps, you fucker. Now get up and get your ass out of
here. You're just lucky I didn't decide to dye that wimpy hair of yours
green or red. I may do it yet. What do you think guys?"

The guys roared their agreement. With the mood they were in, I felt it was
best to get out of there as quickly as possible, which I did--still
clutching my gut. But what could I possibly say about my hair--to my
parents, to my teachers, to my friends?  I started panicking again as I
headed for home, cutting through the woods so no one would see me, at least
until I could work out a plan.

(to be continued)