Date: Thu, 5 Feb 2004 00:18:27 EST
From: ArtHill579@aol.com
Subject: "High School Blues" part 8

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 8: Joe has to change his plans...

It was Friday and I was finally going to begin working out with Terry and
Bob. I had thrown a set of work-out clothes in my backpack since I would be
going directly from school to Bob's house. The folks gave me the okay and
even--much to my surprise-- said it was alright to have dinner with Bob's
family. Seems that they had met the Greenburgs (Bob's folks) at some kind
of social function and seen them on several other occasions. So they
thought everything was cool, which was fine by me. The school day passed
fairly quickly except for a few stares and laughs about my hair. I was sure
that everyone would get used to it soon--maybe even me. Jimmy had warned me
to keep any stubble off the sides, or else. So I was careful every morning
to inspect my head and carefully use the razor on it when necessary. I was
going to a regular barber soon to see if he could improve on Jimmy's
masterpiece.

Today was also "pay-off day". Mike and Jimmy had carefully instructed me
that they expected to receive their weekly payment--$25 for each of
them--on Fridays. Since I only worked a limited number of hours at the
store (my folks said I couldn't do any more because of school), the money
those two bullies were extorting from me represented most of my weekly
take-home pay. That was the money I was hoping to use as a downpayment on a
car when I was old enough to drive. Now it was going to help Jimmy and Mike
to buy new dirt bikes. But what could I do? I knew if I didn't pay up they
would hurt me bad. It was easier to just give them what they
wanted. Besides, their influence over me was increasing, so much that I
actually got off giving them the cash. I found myself getting boned just
thinking about it. So when I went to school that day, I had the $50 stuffed
into my pocket, ready to deliver to them when they asked for it.  Then I
would be safe (maybe) for another week.

I ran into Jimmy in the hallway during a break between classes. He quickly
grabbed my arm and led me downstairs to a seldom--used rest room. "You
remember to bring the money, Zits? You better have it."

"Yes, Jimmy," I said, "I have it right here."

"Cool," he said, "hand it over."

I pulled the money out of my pocket and gave it to him. He smiled. "Like I
told you Zits, you keep doin' things our way and you got nothin' to worry
about. By the way, I like the way your hair is looking. I talked to the
guys and they all think it should be a different color. Hey, maybe we can
change it every month! That would be way cool, wouldn't it?"

"Please don't do that, Jimmy," I begged. "I'm wearing the mohawk just like
you wanted.  Can't we just leave it the way it is?"

"Don't think so, dude," Jimmy said with a grin. "The guys really want to
see how it will look if it's--let's say, pink. That's a good color for fags
anyway, isn't it?"

"No, please Jimmy, I would be too embarrassed if my hair were pink."

Jimmy's smile vanished and he drove his fist deep into my gut, knocking the
wind out of me. Then he doubled his fists like a sledgehammer and pounded
me to the floor. I was writhing around in pain. "You do what I tell you or
this is what happens, cunt. You want another demonstration?" I managed to
shake my head no as I gasped for breath.

"Good," Jimmy said, "cause I'm getting tired of your disrespect. Now lick
my feet like a good little faggot and tell me how sorry you are for
questioning my decision about you."

Once again, humiliated to the extreme, I weakly crawled across the filthy
floor to where Jimmy stood, staring down at me. First I kissed, than began
to lick his dirty sneakers, begging him at the same time to forgive me for
not wanting to follow his orders. He held up the ratty sneakers so I could
lick the bottoms. I was trying to keep from gagging. Just then, Mike walked
in. He laughed.

"Well, I see you got things in hand, my man. You get the faggot's cash?"

"What do ya think? Here's your half. I got him on the floor because he
didn't like our idea of dyeing his hair pink. I had to punish him so he
doesn't think he can disobey us without getting his ass kicked."

"That's right, Zits," said Mike. "You listen to the man. From now on we
tell you what to do, what to think, and how to dress. By the way "J", it
looks like the faggot is enjoying what you've been doin' to him. He's got
another boner."

"Shit!" said Jimmy, "I never saw a guy get off on abuse the way Crawford
does. What a sick fuck he is. Right fag? You like it when we rough you up?
Makes you all horny?  Well, I guess we'll have to do it more often. Hey
Mike, maybe we should turn Shawn lose on him real soon. Get that ring
ready, cause I want to see if Zits gets a boner when Shawn is breakin' his
ribs."

Just then the warning bell rang for class. "See you later," Jimmy said,
"and thanks for contributing to the cause. Every little bit helps, man." I
could hear them laughing as they walked down the hall and up the
stairs. Meanwhile, I was trying to get off the floor and clean myself up. I
looked in the mirror: I was a disaster, with both my pants and shirt
covered with dirt from the bathroom floor. I cleaned up as best as I could
with warm water from the sink, and hurried, ribs and stomach aching, to
history class.

My ribs continued aching throughout the rest of the day. I was beginning to
wonder how I would get through my first session with Terry and Bob in my
present condition. I was tempted to call it off by telling them that I was
not feeling well, and that I needed to go home and rest...No, I didn't want
them to think I was a wimp. I had to show up, no matter how much it hurt. I
could always say that I wasn't in condition, and that I could only work on
real light exercises for a while. I knew they respected me and wouldn't
think any the less because I was out of shape. So when I saw the two of
them in the hall again, I reassured them to count on me being there by 4:00
pm.

I noticed as I was walking down the hall for my last class that Jimmy and
Mike were looking at me kind of funny and whispering to each other. I
thought it probably had to do with our earlier encounter in the bathroom. I
would soon find out that I was wrong.

After classes were over I hurried to my locker, grabbed the study material
I would need for the weekend, and put it in my backpack along with the
work-out clothes. Bob said that his exercise room was in the basement of
the house and that he would leave the back door open. I shouldn't knock but
just come right in because he and Terry probably would already have started
their routines. As soon as I got there the two of them would start testing
my strength to make up the most effective program for me to put on some
bulk and increase my endurance.

These were the things I was thinking about as I exited the school and
headed for Bob's house. I didn't see Jimmy, Mike, and their buddies leaning
against the school wall like they had done the other day, smoking and
tipping up a flask that one of the guys had stashed away in his
backpack. In spite of my bad experience the other day, I decided to take
the short cut through the woods as the quickest way to reach Bob's
house. The guys leaning against the wall watched my movements and smiled
when they saw me enter the woods alone.

The way to reach Bob's house was a different route through the woods than
to my place, but I had hiked and played in those woods for such a long time
that I knew all the paths really well. So I wasn't at all worried about
getting lost. It was early fall, and the trees were still green and the
woods dense with undergrowth. The paths, though, were clearly visible since
they were used quite a bit by local kids.

I was a little over half way through the woods walking toward Bob's house
when I heard a number of high-pitched sounds. They quickly resolved
themselves into the familiar sound of dirt bikes. At first I didn't
associate them with Jimmy and Mike. Often enough kids rode their motor
bikes through the woods, prompting complaints from the neighbors to which
the cops responded in a half-hearted way. They stopped the kids and
lectured them about causing a public disturbance and damaging the
woods. Two days later the kids were back again, maybe following a slightly
different route. That was really the only thing that disturbed me while I
was walking in the woods. But I also knew they were just kids out to have a
little fun.

The cyclists were very close when I realized they were on the same trail as
I was, and that I better get my ass out of their way. Still I didn't think
it was my "friends" from school, whom I associated with Mike's house and
the field in his backyard.  Besides, no one was allowed to bring a motor
bike to school. I guess you could say that I was really stupid not to
realize what was happening, and I soon paid the price.

I turned around and pressed against the surrounding bushes to let the
cyclists pass and suddenly I saw Jimmy almost on top of me. He stuck out
his booted foot and clotheslined me. I flew backwards, and for a moment I
thought he and his buddies were going to run right over me. Instead he
stopped and waited for me to recover, without saying a word.  My whole
stomach and rib cage ached from contact with Jimmy's leg and foot.

Several of the cyclists roared past me so that I was surrounded. Little by
little I recognized all the guys: Mike, Phil, Shawn and the others. Somehow
they had stashed their bikes at school without being discovered and picked
them up when they were ready to run me down.

"Real nice back here, ain't it guys," Jimmy said. "We're gonna have to ride
around here more often. 'Course ya never know what you're gonna run
into. Ya gotta be careful or you might just run over a frog. Did ya know
that frogs have zits and you can catch 'em if you pick them up?"

"Nah," Brad piped up, "that's warts. Everybody knows that if ya pick up a
frog you can get warts."

"Yeah, well here's a frog that can give you zits. That's why ya gotta
squash it or kick it like a soccer ball. Which brings me to the point of
this friendly little visit. I understand, Zits, that you're getting real
cozy with Terry Mahoney and Bob Greenburg.  You suckin' their cocks or
something, faggot?"

"They asked me if I wanted to play soccer, and they said they were gonna
help train me.  Bob's got an exercise room in his basement, and we're gonna
train over there every week." After I had spilled out my guts, I realized
how stupid I was to let these guys in on my plans and, even worse, the
routine of Terry and Bob. Something told me that these guys would like
nothing better than to get some kind of control over Terry and Bob as they
had over me.

"Listen, Zits, the only ones who are gonna train you is us. And the first
lesson ya gotta learn is obedience. That means you listen to us and only to
us.  Understand?"

"But why me?" I asked. "Why are you interested in me?"

"Good question, Zits," Jimmy chimed in. "Ya see, we like you. You're a real
cool guy and we want to hang out with you." A few snickers from the other
guys.

"By the way, Zits, where does Greenburg live?" Mike asked.

A chill ran through my guts. I could have kicked myself for talking so
much. "Um," I said, "over near the supermarket where I work."

"That's not what I asked you, fucker. What's his street address?"

I hesitated, not knowing what to say.

"I asked you a question, cunt. Now where does he live?"

When I still didn't answer, Mike casually climbed off his bike. He pulled
out one of his motorcycle gloves from his pack, put it on, and walked over
to me. Then he backhanded me hard across the face, knocking me to the
ground. A line of blood trickled from the edge of my mouth. The other guys
were watching intently.

He raised his gloved hand again, assuming a menacing posture.

"Okay, okay," I blubbered, "He lives at 24 High Street."

"There, that wasn't so hard, Zits, was it," Mike said with a smile. "We may
just be paying Greenburg a little visit one of these days. You know, get to
know a classmate better. You say he's got an exercise room in has
basement. You can never give too much attention to your body," he said,
flexing his bulging biceps. "I see you got a long ways to go yet in that
department, Zits." Everybody laughed at that, making me blush once again.

If these guys were out to get Bob (and Terry) they were gonna have to be
much more careful than they were with me, or they'd get their asses
whipped. Still I could tell that they were up to no good. That got me angry
in a way I had never been before. At this point I didn't care what else
they did to me, but damn I didn't want them to hurt or embarrass my
friends, Terry and Bob, who had been good to me.

"Well, Zits, this is all very interesting," Jimmy said, gunning his motor
for effect. "But right now we feel that you've gotten a bit out of hand and
need another attitude adjustment. Right guys?" They all confirmed Jimmy's
question with shouts and more gunning of motors.

"Please don't hurt me any more, Jimmy. I hurt all over from that kick you
just gave me."

"Dude, that was just a love tap. Besides I thought you loved my boots.  You
should have a hardon by now geting that boot right in the gut. That was
just to soften you up for the real punishment, or should I say fun? You
always seem to enjoy it when we knock you around, so I'm sure you'll love
what we have in mind for you this time."

"Please Jimmy, I have to get over to Bob's house. I promised him I'd be
there by 4:00 pm and its already 3:45."

"That's your problem, man, cause you ain't goin' nowhere. We got business
with you and our business always comes first. And part of what we want you
to remember is that you're not gonna be seeing Mahoney and Greenburg
anymore. You're gonna break it off and tell them you changed your mind
about playing soccer, that you've got more important things to do. Got it?"

"No!" I dared to say. "They're my friends and I'm not gonna disappoint
them. I wanna be with them and I wanna to be on the soccer team."

"Whoa, dudes," Jimmy said (sounding a bit surprised). This cocksucker
doesn't wanna give up his new friends. He must really love to suck 'em
off. Maybe he's even taking it up the ass. Well you're not gonna be able to
take anything up your ass for quite a while when we're through with you,
Zits! Bring 'im guys."

(to be continued)