Warning, the story you are about to read deals with issues such as homosexuality and teenage sex. If your offended by such behaviors or your not of legal age to read such material, pleas exit now.

...oooOooo...

The last bell finally signaled the end of a very long and trying day. Even though their had been some low point of the day, namely lunch, the rest of the day was not entirely that bad. I could handle a few snide remarks here and there. What is the old rhyme our parents taught us? Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. I just needed to remember that!

Things were starting to look a little brighter. With a backpack full of books from Mrs. Edwards, I was relieved to get into my mom's car and ride safely home...

...oooOooo...

When I first got home, I went directly to the bathroom. It had been a habit of mine over the past couple years to be weary of the schools public restrooms. It wasn't that I was pee shy, it was just that I really didn't think they were that sanitary. After I was finished with my "business," I proceeded to wash my hands. Looking up from the sink I was able to get a good look at myself. I really looked tired. I also looked like I needed a shower!

Stripping off my shirt and my shorts, I was confronted by the overpowering smell of old sweat. I basically reeked! I opened the shower door and adjusted the taps to get it just right. When the water was to my liking, I stepped under the spray and was instantly refreshed. I used my bath sponge and the liquid soap to wash away any offending odor from my body. I then leaned back and began the process of washing my hair.

I was always quick at taking a shower; I really didn't waste anytime getting clean by just standing under the spray. Instead, I washed what needed to washed; the whole process only took ten minutes. Of course, it only takes me ten minutes to get clean, but I usually stayed in the shower for three times as that. For me, the shower was one of the few places in the house where I got to spend some personal alone time with myself.

I reached over for the liquid conditioner on the shelf. I had already finished with my hair, but I wanted to give some more attention to some of the other parts of my body. I had discovered how to pleasure myself years before, and now pleasure had become an important part of my shower routine.

****

****

Squeezing the conditioner into my palm, I slowly began to rub it into my chest and my abdomen. I paid extra close attention to my nipples and my navel. I began to appreciate how I was beginning to physically develop. My pecs were still small, and my abs were still not quite visible, but I was on my way to developing a nice upper body.

After a minute or two, I couldn't wait any longer. I slowly moved my hands down my abdomen and began to slowly massage my loose sac and balls. I gripped and fondled my balls, applying appropriate pressure when needed. The water in the shower was slowly cooling off, but I didn't want to rush it. The cold water added to the shivers of pleasure that I was experiencing.

I finally moved to the base of my straining penis and slowly began to work up the shaft. My rigid cock pulsed in time with the beat of my heart. Each pulse sent electric waves of pleasure up my spine. I don't know if it was the water or the work I was doing to my cock, but my skin began to be covered in goose bumps. It only took a few more practiced movements of my hands before a large spasm over took my body.

My body convulsed as stream after stream of spunk began to cover the shower wall and my hands. I had needed such a release for quite some time. Looking down, I saw that my hands were covered with the product of my efforts. Up until that moment, I had never attempted to taste my own cum. I always just rinsed it down the drain with my soapsuds. But this time, curiosity got the better of me. I lifted the back of my right hand to my waiting lips and tasted for the first time what I had been afraid to try. It was a bit salty, yet at the same time a little bit sweet. It really wasn't bad at all.

After cleaning up the shower and myself I turned off the water and got out. I toweled myself off and enjoyed the afterglow of my experience. I put on a pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt and started to walk toward my bedroom.

...oooOooo...

It had been a really long day. I was already exhausted emotionally, but now I was exhausted physically. All I could think of at the moment was stretching out on my bed and just staying there until I had to get up for supper. My mom calling to me from her bedroom changed that plan...oh well.

"Zack! Can you come in here please!"

What did she want now? My mom had been acting overly "motherly" and now she wanted to spend more time with me. What happened to the mother that got home from work and didn't say anything to you until you said goodnight. My mom was just plain getting weird, should I say it, normal.

"Yeah mom? What do you want? I've had a long day and I was hoping to take a nap before dinner."

"Sorry to disturb your thrilling plans for the afternoon, but I thought that we should talk. Is it a terrible thing for a mother to want to socialize with her children?"

"Only when you've never really "socialized with your children" in the past. What gives?"

"Well, I've realized that I've become a distant parent ever since I went back to work four years ago. I'm sorry honey, but I've come to realize that I don't even know my own children."

"You see me almost everyday, I'm your son, and you're my mom, what else is there to know?"

"Are you happy?"

"What?!"

"I said, are you happy? I may not know all the details, but I'm still your mother. I know when you're faking it and I think that you're just pretending."

Am I happy? Why is she asking that? I was expecting something a little more invasive from my mother. It was just like her to ask a question like that. Most mothers would ask if I'm sexually active or doing drugs. Happiness really didn't really seem like a high point on the list of parental concerns these days. I had to think about her question before I could give her an honest answer.

"To be honest...I really don't know how I feel. I got outed my by one of my friends, and since then I've gotten crap from a lot of people from school. The only good thing that has come out of the whole experience is that I don't have to worry about hiding my sexuality anymore. I should be happy about that, but I just don't know. Let`s just say I`m not unhappy."

"I guess that is a valid answer. I was just worried that you would be hiding your emotions from me. You don't know how worried I've been over the last couple weeks. Not worried for myself, but worried for you."

"What do you have to be worried about? You're not the one who is gay."

"I've been worrying that you were secretly miserable, and I would come home one day to fine a note or something. I was worried that you'd run away or worse..."

At this my mom's eyes began to water. Emotions never really were my thing, but I could never allow my mom to be by herself whenever she was crying. I walked across the room and sat next to her on the bed. My gesture of comfort was rewarded with a sobbing hug and a wet shoulder. I could have done without the moisture, but the hug was nice.

"If you don't mind mom, I've really had a long day and would like to rest for a bit."

"Okay Zack, you can go rest now. I'll just knock on your door when supper is ready. Okay?"

"Okay..."

...oooOooo...

Walking to my first class, I was confronted by John Price and his group of friends. I really didn't need this right now!

"Hey faggot! What's the hurry? Going to check your makeup before you go to class? Got to look good for all the guys!"

"I'm just lat for class, can you please leave me alone..."

"Look guys! Think the little faggot is about to cry...Don't cry little faggot! Don't want to mess up your mascara!"

With this last remark, I decided that it was time to make a beeline directly to my classroom. I thought it would be better to ignore the situation, instead of encouraging it with a response. Of course I thought wrong...

"Don't you turn your back on me when I'm talking to you! When I talk to you, you listen. Because, I'm a "real" man and your a sorry excuse for a pretender! You better listen to a "real" man whenever he talks to you, if you know what's good for you!"

The whole situation was really getting on my nerves. My mouth has always gotten me in trouble in the past. And, this time wasn't going to be different.

"I'm sorry John...I didn't realize that I was talking to a "real" man. It seems to me that my little sister is more a man that you ever will be! Now get out of my way you wannabe "real" man!"

"YOU LITTLE COCKSUCKER! I'll show you what a "real" man really can do!"

With this statement three of John's friends grabbed me. With one on each arm and another holding me in a headlock, John proceeded to walk up to my face. His expression was that of superior satisfaction. The next thing I knew, I had John's fist slamming against my stomach. I was instantly winded.

"Boys, let's take this little faggot somewhere where we can show him just what "real" men can do!"

Each boy wore a smug grin on their face while they drug me to the nearest janitor's closet. I didn't know what was going to happen next, where they going to kick the shit out of me or worse. When we got into the small, dark room, John jerked my head up and looked me directly into the eyes. It was going to be worse!

"Now I'm going to show you what a "real" man can do!"

The sound of John's zipper instantly told me that I was not going to enjoy what was about to happen. I've always fantasized what my first sexual experience would be like, and this was not going to be the fantasy.

KNOCK!, KNOCK!, KNOCK!

...oooOooo...

A loud knock at the door quickly ended the horrible situation. After the initial shock wore off, I slowly became aware of my surroundings. It was still dark, but the room was comfortingly familiar. I was back in my own bedroom and the whole school experience was just a nightmare.

Through my door, I heard the muffled voice of my mom, "Honey, sorry to wake you but dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes."

"...uhhh...thanks mom, I'll be right out."

Regaining my bearings was a little harder that I would of thought. The whole nightmare really made me anxious. I was soaked from head to toe with terror sweat and I was continually shaking. I went into my bathroom and rinsed my face with cold water before I decided to face my family.

"Hey honey! How was your rest...honey, what's the matter? You look like you might be coming down with something. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I just had a bad dream about a few kids at my school, that's all..."

"It seems that you had more than just a bad dream. Tell me about it so I can help."

"I really don't know...I really don't want to think about it again. Okay?"

"Well, it's not okay! I'm your mother and I worry about you. If you want me to be continually worried about you, just don't tell me what's wrong. But for my sanity and your sanity, please tell me what happened."

What the heck! I proceeded to tell my mom about the circumstances of my dream and its connection to the events of the day. I of course left out the attempted rape part, but I did tell her that I felt that I was physically threatened by some of the kids at school. I told her about my confrontation with John, the "queer" remark in my first class, and finally about what happened in my gym class.

"Even though most of my day was crap, I did get to have a nice conversation with Mrs. Edwards, the counselor. She was concerned that I was having trouble in school and gave me some advice."

"What type of advice, Zack?"

"Oh nothing really, just the usual type. She did give me some books about dealing with teenage homosexuality. Some of the books are for you and dad, but most of them are for me."

"Remind me to call Mrs. Edwards and thank her. I'm not surprised about Coach Miller though. I graduated high school with him and he was your basic beef-head even back then. If I recall correctly, he asked me out for prom and I turned him down..."

"Eww gross, I can't believe that Coach Miller had the hots for my mom. That mental picture will haunt me for years."

"Hey...be fair! I turned him down, and you better remember that! I went with your father instead and that is the end of it..."

"Okay, Okay! I'll attempt to not think about it, just don't be shocked when I don't eat very well...just the thought has almost completely destroyed my appetite. By the way, where is Melissa? I haven't heard her annoying voice since I got up."

"Melissa is out with your father. She has missed him since he moved out and I thought it would be a good chance for us to be alone for at least a few hours."

"Well, you won't see me complaining anymore about her absence. Is dad ever going to move back home?"

"At the moment...No. Your father, our therapist, and I have agreed that it is best for us to be apart for some time. Your father needs to be alone so he can readjust to the new circumstances in his life."

"So, basically you guys are going to stay apart because of what I've done. I'm really sorry that I caused all of this!"

"You didn't cause anything, your father and I have been having problems long before everything got out of hand. We had planned to stay together at least until Melissa graduated High School, for you kids. But, recent circumstances have accelerated that plan. I'm not saying that we're getting a divorce, we're just not going to live together for quite awhile."

On that somber note, I sat down at the table and waited for my mom to get the rest of our dinner ready. My mom had apparently wanted to fix me something that regular moms would try to make for their children, but of course that really didn't work out as it was planned. My mom had attempted to make tuna casserole, but had apparently followed the soup direction on the can when adding the cream of mushroom. What we were left with was a very soupy, half-cooked, half-burnt mess. The sight at her poor-cooking attempt really helped bring everything back to normal. Thank God, we had the local pizza place on speed dial. In twenty minutes the dog was eating tuna casserole, while me and my mom ate double pepperoni supreme in the living room.

...oooOooo...

The next day, outside the school before the first bell, John confronted me. Unlike my dream, John was not accompanied by his usual group of cronies. Instead John was by himself.

"Hey faggot, I thought that we should have a little chat alone before we went our separate ways when the bell rings."

"What do you want John, `cause I really don't want to talk to you."

"Now don't be a little bitch...I wanted you to know a few things before you continued going to this school."

"And what "few things" is that?"

"Let's just call the rules of conduct. You're a faggot and I expect you to act like the lesser human that you are! First thing you need to know, is that you are no longer one of us. When I mean us, you are no longer part of the correct, normal society. You are below it. When someone talks to you, you are not to look him or her into the eye. Instead you are to be submissive like the little faggot bitch you are."

"I really need to get to class..."

I really didn't want to hear this crap right now and I was going to be late for class.

"I'm not through!"

John grabbed my shoulder and spun me around so I was facing him again.

"I told you faggot to know your place! If you don't follow your role in this school, I will force you to understand your role!"

My heart was racing and my palms were sweating. I was being degraded right in front of my school and no one seemed to care about it. John was given ample space by the student body to further humiliate and degrade me. I wasn't going to take it anymore!

"Now faggot, I wa...."

John was abruptly interrupted as my fist connected with his lower jaw. After the initial shock of my actions wore off, I began to slam John's face and body with my punches. When he turned to get away from me, I tackled him and began slamming his face into the grass. I would have probably done more damage, but some of the students and even some of the teaching staff abruptly pulled me off the semi-conscious John.

When the adrenaline died down, I looked at the sobbing figure of my would be harasser. He was curled up in the fetal position crying his eyes out while a large group surrounded him and me.

"WHOSE THE FAGGOT BITCH NOW!" I yelled in his general direction.

I wasn't able to enjoy the entire scene for long because Coach Miller and several members of the faculty were dragging me directly to the principal's office. I was forced to sit down in front of the secretary's desk while Ms. Myers attempted to call my mom and dad.

"...Hello Mrs. V? Hi, its Ms. Myers calling from C. Junior High in the regards to your son...uh huh...uh huh...no mam, he's physically fine, it seems that I can't say that for the other student...uh huh...no mam...uh huh...Zack seemed to have started it the fight...I'm not sure if it was provoked or not mam...can you please come in so you and Mr. Richardson can discuss the entire situation with Zack...sorry to inconvenience you...fifteen minutes will be fine...bye..."

I was in deep shit now! I had just beaten up a fellow student and my mom was on the way here to talk with Mr. Richardson and me. Mr. Richardson was a really nice guy, not your typical principal stereotype at all. He actually believed that he could control the student population by being their friend, not their enemy. That is, until you do something wrong. Then the whole "friend" attitude was replaced by a very stern and merciless attitude. I had fifteen minutes to consider the situation before my mom arrived...fifteen minutes to think...

...oooOooo...

Fifteen minutes seemed like an eternity, but thankfully they were only fifteen minutes. When I saw my mom's disappointed and worried face, I wished that fifteen minutes were really an eternity. My mom glanced in my direction and went directly to the front desk.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. V, Zack's mother. You called for me to come in..."

"It will be a couple more minutes before Mr. Richardson can see you. You can take a seat over there and wait. I don't believe it will take that long."

My mom walked across the floor and sat right next to me without fully acknowledging my presence. I could tell that she was concerned, but I also knew that if she acknowledged me she wouldn't be able to maintain her composure. The only thing that was keeping her from breaking down was cold silence.

A couple minutes later, Mr. Richardson's door opened and me and my mom were instructed to come into his office to have a talk. Mr. Richardson did not look like his usual cheery self. He was instead very stone-faced in his expression. This was not a good sign.

...oooOooo...