Date: Sat, 25 Jun 2022 21:56:53 +0000
From: ^sharper <sharper.inorbit@protonmail.com>
Subject: YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART THIRTEEN

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YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART THIRTEEN

What makes us sub gays put ourselves out there, advertising our passivity
and subservience? It's like we are so engrossed in our sexuality that we
can't be anything else, isn't it? Literally asking for trouble. When the
gang were getting around to drifting back home, we were in High Street
and a couple of blokes I didn't know started shouting at us from the
opposite pavement. John and Luke were shouting back. I couldn't tell if
they were joking or not. I mean, everyone was laughing, but that doesn't
mean anything.

Then they started on me.

It's odd because I'd honestly forgotten who I was. I felt like I almost
wasn't there. I was just walking and I was behind everyone and I was
looking at their bodies as we walked, just loving looking at them and
their bodies. The way they walked. They walked so sexily. They way their
bottoms moved up and down and side to side and their legs, their gait. I
mean everything ... it was ... I was in heaven watching them and
listening to them. Even when the other blokes turned up I was just
mesmerised by their athleticism and masculinity. I thought, you know, I
thought, I hope this goes on forever, because it's so lovely and ... The
way they walked like their junk was huge and each step had to steer
around it! I was hard. They had let go of my lead and let me just hold it
so it didn't swung about.

Po had managed to just go down enough so that if he held it down in his
pocket he could walk without them all seeing it. Or at least no one said
anything. Perhaps they saw it but didn't want to say anything. I don't
know. They were mad.

Mad beautiful guys.

So that's how they were walking.
And I thought, 'These guys all have beautiful penises and beautiful
bollocks and their arses are tight and their stomachs are hard and they
let me suck the off and I eat their trainers and they soak me to the skin
with piss and slap me and call me fag and gob and. I know, I know, this
is the best it has ever been.'
I felt it as peace.

And the streets were more or less empty because it was the evening and
people weren't out much in the centre of town, they were back in their
houses I think. Oh, also there had been a match the night before so
perhaps people were recovering. I don't know. But anyway, so when these
blokes appeared we could see them for ages walking towards us.

I think I noticed them first, cause even though I was looking at the gang
and their shoulders and their backsides and the way they walked, and
their feet, I saw the two blokes away off past them almost as soon as
they became visible. There was was one guy who was pretty big, and his
mate who was a fucking monster - ok, exaggeration, but he did tower and
looked like he'd never lost a fight in his life and didn't know what it
even meant to - but if he ever held a bird tight he'd kill it, you know,
without meaning to.
The first guy was more flabby, rounded, with a big bald head and an ugly
face, but probably really strong cause these big guys usually are. They
looked rough, but might have been sweethearts deep inside, cause these
guys often are unless they are riled.

And they weren't looking at us anyway cause they were talking about
something else. But then just as they got close they just started
shouting and laughing and calling us poofs - I mean all of us, not just
me. In fact me they mostly ignored to begin with. They were doing V signs
and the gang were doing V signs back (I didn't do any V signs, obviously)
and saying something about the football - which is when they started a
cross the road towards us in a way that though there was only two of them
they looked like a convoy of tanks!

I started to get worried cause I thought they were headed directly for
me!

So the gang faced up to them and gave as good as they got, insult wise,
and though they did sort of pat each other and poke their fingers it
wasn't violent and it was all in fun, I think, mainly it was. They were
laughing and eventually fist bumps showed they was friends, but they kept
joking in this way ... you know how these things start; the joke
irritates a nerve and so it goes on until somebody loses it. That's when
they started on at me. Cause they saw I was the weak one and I wasn't
joining or standing up for the gang of doing anything basically. I was
just standing there watching them and the expression on my face - I don't
know the expression on my face but it was probably stupid; either I was
smiling or I wasn't. What does it matter? They saw me now and they knew
immediately who I was, it seems.

"Who's this, your fag?" Baldy said, walking up to me. I cowered back and
hoped Po would hang back to protect me, but he didn't. The gang just let
Baldy amble up past them and start on at me. "Heard you had a fag."

Baldy and his chum acknowledged Po, cause they knew his brother - "How's
your bro'?" said Baldy like they were family - and bumped again and did
that side-hug guys do, but then even Po sort of stepped aside, knodding,
said, "He's good," meaning his brother, and, well I think the guys
thought it was only going to be another joke. Only Baldy wasn't making a
joke when I was on the receiving end and no one to help. I mean it was a
joke cause everyone was sort of laughing, but it wasn't a joke also cause
he meant it, Baldy, and he was going to have a go at me and no telling.
Fuck, there was no telling where this would lead to.
Fuck. I'm screwed, I thought.

"This your fag I heard about?"
"Yeah," said Dean.
"What you got that for? You a bunch of fags 'en?"
He laughed and Po laughed like, nothing further from the truth, but
everyone else looked a bit worried.
"No," said Luke. "It sucks our cocks and does what we tell it to!"
"It?" the Baldy's monster friend joined in, and laughed.
They were both coming on towards me, like two tanks, and almost bumping
shoulders as they go close, like Bill and Ben, and ... I looked at
Monster and ...

... I don't know what possessed me but instead of just looking down or
looking at his feet, or even looking at his face would have been better
or looking at his chest, which was huge, I was looking at his crotch. I
didn't look at his face, I looked at his crotch, I stared at it, cause
there it was and I was looking at it cause, cause I'm a fag aren't I? I'm
a fag; that's what I look at. I look at guy's dicks and think about them
and that's it. That's all I think about. That's it. That's all I think
about. And when I look at a guy that's what I look at. I look at his
dick, and imagine it, in my mouth and what all I want is for it, I think
of it, in my lips, in my mouth, in my throat, fucking my head and his
stomach just sort of thumping against my forehead the way they do and the
smell of it.

Ok. So perhaps I made a mistake but I'm a fag and the jokes on me isn't
it?
Isn't it?

"What the fuck you lookin' at? What the fuck you lookin' at?" said
Monster in a suddenly really seriously seriously serious way, like I'd
said something or done something and something insulted him I was
responsible for.
"Fag!" said Monster.
He was stepped forward an few centimeters ahead of Baldy now and he was
walking so close to me I could feel his breath on my face. I looked up at
him and he started shouting, "What you lookin' at faggot, hey? Fag," and
every word he said seemed to generate some spit which flew across the few
centimeters that separated us and landed with a cold splash on my face.
It was like facing down a tidal wave, so I backed off. Except there
wasn't really anywhere to back off because he just came forward until he
was pushing into me and towering above me and looking me in the face and
shouting - Jesus - so my words I couldn't take it all in. All I thought,
really, was, 'Dont fall over. Don't fall over and make a fool of
yourself. Don't make it, like you're the wuss and can't even stand up!'
He laughed, "Huh fag? They call you fag - you like that?"
I stuttered something meaningless.

"Look, it's OUR fag yeah?" Luke said without getting involved any closer.
"WE call it that. Yeah? It's ok cause that's what it is."
"And what's this?" continued Monster, ignoring Luke, finding my lead and
just sort of tapping it so it swung a bit.
He looked sort of stupid cause it seemed to be difficult for him to think
of insults, except fag was the limit of his imagination and I don't think
he genuinely understood why I had a lead round my neck and a collar. In
fact he kind of looked at me and I don't think he knew what I was.

I mean, I was dressed like preppy AF, my neat shirt and I'd taken to
pressed tailored shorts that meant my knees were permanently dirty but at
least it didn't mean constantly had to put my leggings in the wash or if
they got dirt caked I had to brush off before I could even wash them, and
before I could even wash them I had to let them dry so they could even be
brushed. It was stupid. But now my knees were brown and I also, like I
said, pulled them up tight so that my junk was really, you know,
controlled, so it couldn't move about but also it was totally visible and
the seam cut right up into my arsecrack so I could feel it permanently
when I walked or even if I moved, like shifted my weight, so it
completely changed the way I stood and the way I walked, and - I mean,
the way I'm describing it it sounds totally gayly ridiculous - those
beads round my neck and my shirt open so they were visible and so was my
chest ... I looked so gay, I mean ssoo fucking gay. I'm amazed they let
me go around with them like that. Plus the collar which was a proper dog
collar and impossible not to it see cause it was round me neck, obviously
and, yeah ... Plus the lead swinging about.

So no wonder the Monster was a bit confused like he said. Cause it was
confusing I think.
His face was in my face, except he was taller so I was looking at his
chest, or neck, and he was right up against me so that his whole body was
like touching mine like a wall and I could feel his stomach and his junk
like we were in bed and he was really into me. I didn't want to upset him
by pointing that out, but he was touching me and I could feel the heat,
like the real heat of him pouring into me like we were in an embrace and
he was right there, in my face, breathing on me like that and his spit
landing on my face when he said anything.
It was gross but it was really intense and eventhough I was thinking,
What a man! I was also thinking, What is he going to do to me?

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END OF
YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART THIRTEEN