"Put that thing away before you hurt somebody, Benji!" Coach Russell yelled at Benji Cox, center and captain of the basketball team that just won the county championship, as he ran naked up and down the locker room holding up the winner’s trophy.
"Sorry, Coach," Benji said as he put the trophy down and went back to his locker.
"I think he meant to put that thing away before you hurt somebody," Benji's best friend, Evan Tucker, snickered while pointing at Benji's huge eight-inch dick.
"This?" Benji asked, grabbing his big dick and giving it a couple of quick jerks. "You guys are just jealous. You only wish you had a cock like this. Shit, most of you pussies don't even have pubes yet."
Benji was especially proud of his pubic hair. He had hit puberty before he was in his teens and sported a thick bush. Benji Cox had it all. He was the star basketball player in a sports-crazed small town and was like a god to the townsfolk. The girls and women swooned over him, and the guys idolized him. He was good looking, too — and knew it. He had exotic, almost Latino features. Dark, almost black hair and smoldering brown eyes that seemed to beckon women to him. He was six foot, one hundred fifty pounds of pure, lean beef. He knew he was hot and never let anybody forget it. Worst of all, he was rich. Filthy rich. Well, at least his family was. Benji Cox was a trust fund baby born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Everybody worshiped the ground he walked on. Everybody, that is, except those who actually knew what a prick he was. Benji Cox talked a good talk, but when you got right down to it, he was a bastard, a real prick, and proud of it. Coach Russell poked his head out of his office.
"Watch the language, Benji!" he roared while trying to suppress a smile.
"Sorry!" Benji called back.
Then he turned back to his teammates, grabbing his crotch again.
"Come on guys, you know y'all wished you had one like mine. Look over at Jerry there," he said as he pointed at Jerry Edwards who was quietly buttoning his shirt. "I bet Jerry would like some of this." He sauntered over to where Jerry was sitting and stood right in front of the boy with his cock right in front of Jerry's face. His hips undulated as he thrust them back and forth. "Come and get it, faggot."
Jerry Edwards stood up and pushed Benji back.
"Fuck off, you asshole," he said.
Jerry Edwards was gay, and outside of only a small group of friends no one knew, but Benji Cox suspected. Several months earlier Benji had gotten drunk and passed out at a party. He was kind of in and out of it but was almost positive that Jerry was feeling him up. When he pushed Jerry's hands away, Jerry tried to pass off the incident as though he was drunk also, but Benji didn't buy it. He blabbed to anyone who would listen that Jerry Edwards had hit on him.
Nobody believed Benji though because he had a habit of stretching the truth and when he started claiming that Jerry had come on to him people just rolled their eyes, but that didn't stop Benji. Since that day, he'd had it out for Jerry, calling him a faggot and teasing him whenever the opportunity presented itself. However, verbal jabbing was as far as he took it because no matter how tough Benji Cox was Jerry Edwards was just as tough from being on the wrestling team every year and always working out in the gym after school. Not only that but when it came right down to it, Jerry Edwards was more popular than Benji Cox was. Jerry was a nice guy who treated everybody equally. As a result, he had a lot of friends.
As Jerry walked away, Benji made another smart-ass comment, "cocksucker."
Then he reached into his locker and grabbed his clothes to get dressed. He had just pulled on his briefs when another one of his teammates remarked, "You know, Benji, only little boys wear tightie whities anymore. Why don't you get with the program and wear boxers like everybody else?"
Benji ignored the quiet rolls of laughter from his teammates and reached into his white, full-cut briefs to adjust his hefty cock and balls.
"Fuck off you losers. I need something industrial strength to keep this monster and these boys in line. Plus, first time I throw a bone or something, I'd rip those pansy-ass boxers to shreds."
He cupped and massaged his considerable bulge and smiled his charming smile.
“Mmmm, that feels good,” he thought, but I'd better stop before I throw a bone.
Benji Cox was always throwing a bone. He just had to hear the word ‘girl,’ and he would get a hard on. The first thing he did every morning before he got out of bed was jack off, and the last thing he did before he went to bed was jack off. During lunch, he usually found a quiet place where he could pound his pud. He was sixteen years old, always horny, and full of cum. No matter how many chicks he banged, he could always squeeze out another load of boy juice.
Benji finished dressing and, along with his teammates, went back to the gym to meet with the fans and the local press who had shown up to cover the game. Benji had scored twenty-seven points, along with the game-winning basket, a Hail Mary from almost half-court, and named MVP. Most of the reporters wanted a sound bite, and Benji was more than happy to oblige. Of course, he neglected to give credit to his teammates, let alone his coach, but that was Benji Cox.
After the media blitz, the guys went back to the locker room to gather up their gym bags and head out. It was only Thursday, and they all had school the next day. After the Coach had left, Evan Tucker stopped everybody.
"Guys," he said. "My parents are going to Vegas tomorrow for the weekend so party at my place. I got all the booze we'll need. Everybody's invited too so make sure you spread the word at school tomorrow."
Benji looked over at Jerry and loudly asked, "Are cocksuckers coming too?"
Jerry ignored the comment.
"Give it a rest, Benji," Phil Potter said, shaking his head. "Do you always have to be such an asshole?"
"Ah, you just want me too," Benji said.
Later that night Jerry was in a back booth at Denny's with three of his friends, Tom, Glen, and Brad. The four of them had been friends since childhood. Once they got into high school though Jerry had outstripped them in looks, athleticism, and popularity. Tom, Glen, and Brad were more into science and computers and considered geeks by some, but Jerry was still best friends with them no matter what. They knew he was gay and didn't care. At one point or another through the years they had messed around a bit with each other. Jerry could be himself around them, trusting them completely, and for that, he was eternally grateful. He told them about the party and then mentioned Benji's comments.
"That guy's such a prick," Tom said. "I would love to kick his ass."
"Me too," Jerry agreed, "but that's only a temporary fix."
"Well, you did feel him up," Glenn said matter-of-factly.
Jerry nodded his head sadly.
"Yeah, the biggest fucking mistake I ever made, but I was hammered, and I thought he was out and, well, he does have a hot body. Shit, I fucked up. I just wish I could get him to keep his mouth shut forever."
"We could kill him," Glen said jokingly, and all the guys laughed.
"Oh, not the Golden Boy," Jerry said sarcastically rolling his eyes. "We can't have that."
"Let's blackmail him," Brad suggested.
The guys looked at him.
"Now that's a great idea," Jerry said, "but how do we do it?"
Brad shrugged his shoulders.
"Drug him, take pictures, I don't know, but we can do it. Evan lives two houses down from me. My parents are going with his parents to Vegas, so my house will be empty. If we can get Benji to my place, we can have whole weekend alone with him."
"Yeah, but Benji isn't exactly your best bud, Brad," Jerry said. "I don't think he's gonna leave a huge party where he's probably gonna be king of the hill to go off to your house."
"You know, guys," Glen said slowly and deliberately, "my brother's coming back from State for the weekend, and I think he might have something we could use."
"Really," Tom asked, "like what?"
Glen leaned forward in his seat, and the other guys followed suit.
"Well," he started, "he's always telling me about the girls up there and the frat parties and stuff. He said he and his friends slipped some stuff in their girlfriends’ drinks one night and it made them totally horny and slutty. They didn't remember anything about it the next day."
"Isn't that date rape?" Tom asked.
"It's not raping if she's your girlfriend," Brad reasoned.
"Do you think your brother will bring any of that stuff with him?" Jerry asked.
"I can ask him," Glen offered, "but I bet he will. He said he was coming down with Joe Woods and the two of them were going pussy hunting this weekend. I'm sure if I ask he'll hook me up."
Jerry was rubbing his hands together.
"I'll get Benji away from everybody outside and tell him I wanna talk to him or something. You guys will be waiting nearby. I'll slip it into his beer, and then when he starts going out, I'll leave. When he's out, we'll grab him and bring him over here to Glen's place. How long does that stuff take to work?"
"A few minutes I think," Glen said.
"Perfect," Jerry said, smiling.
Between classes on Friday, Jerry, Glen, Tom, and Brad all met in the quad to go over their plan for that night. Glen, Tom, and Brad were going to hang out at Brad's house until 11:30 pm. At that time, Jerry was planning on pulling Benji aside on the pretext of talking to him. By that time, Benji would be pretty wasted. Jerry planned to take it easy. He would limit his alcohol and just act like he was drunk. After all, he didn't want to be too out of it for Benji's big scene! Glen told his brother that he and his friends were going to the party and asked if they could get a little "something" to make it easier to get girls. His brother was only too happy to oblige and hooked him up with some roofies and ecstasy telling him how the right combination would make a girl put out like a slut and not remember a thing in the morning. Tom's dad used Viagra, and he pilfered one. If the roofies and ecstasy couldn't keep Benji hard, the Viagra would do the trick. Plus, they wanted Benji as hard as possible for as long as possible.
That night the cars were lined up and down the street outside Evan Tucker's house. Evan's uncle was a cop and was on duty that night. He knew what was going on and made sure all the cops steered clear of the area. He was proud of his nephew and his team and felt like they deserved the party. He wasn't about to ruin their big night.
The booze was flowing freely, and Phil Potter had brought a ziplock bag full of pot. A few of the guys, Benji included, were sitting around drinking, playing video games, and taking bong hits. Everybody at the party was hammered. Everybody that is, except Jerry.
At 11:20 pm, Jerry, pretending he was drunk, staggered into the game room and flopped down on the couch next to Benji. Evan handed him the bong, and he took a hit. One hit wouldn't hurt. He turned to Benji who was apparently feeling no pain at this point.
"Hey, Benj," Jerry said, deliberately slurring his words, "can I talk to you, buddy?"
Benji, who by now was feeling no pain, smiled.
"Shoooor, Jerrr, whaddaya wanna talk about?"
"Well, it's kinda private," Jerry said, putting his arm around Benji's shoulders and steering the drunk teen ever so slightly toward the back door. "I wanted to talk to you about all the shit you've been giving me."
"Oh, that," Benji said, swaying. It was a good thing Jerry's arm was around him or else he might've fallen on his fine, firm ass. "Well..."
"Oh, shit," Jerry slurred, interrupting. He wasn't interested in some lame lie anyway. "My beer's all gone. I gotta get me another. You want one?"
Benji drained his bottle and threw it onto the lawn.
"Fuck yeah, buddy."
"Okay," Jerry nodded. "I'll be right there. Don't go anywhere."
He went back into the house and grabbed two beers from the cooler. He popped the tops and, making sure no one was watching, dropped the ecstasy and roofie into Benji's drink. Then he joined his unwitting victim outside.
"Here you go, pal," he said, handing the swaying stud his beer.
"Thanks, man," Benji said drunkenly, taking a drink. "You're not so bad after all." He took another drink. "What did you wanna talk about?"
"Well," Jerry said, exaggerating his gestures like a drunk person, "it bugs me when you call me a cocksucker and shit like that."
Benji took another drink and looked at Jerry.
"All I remember is that you were touching my dick and stuff when I woke up."
Jerry shook his head.
"Buddy, that night you were so fucked up you didn't even know your own name! Shit, we were all drunk, and if I did touch you, it was by accident. I mean, I'm not gay, man. Think about it for a sec. If I was gay why would I make a pass at the biggest stud in town?"
Geez! He couldn't believe the shit he was saying just to keep Benji occupied until the drugs kicked in. As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long. Benji's eyes glazed over, and Jerry doubted he even heard a word he had said.
"I'm gonna get me another beer," Jerry said. "You coming?" He turned to look at Benji. The drunken, drugged teen could barely stand up straight and was leaning against a tree for support.
"Ahhlll be there in a minute," Benji said, his voice slow and thick.
He was having a hard time articulating what he was trying to say. The drugs Jerry had slipped in his beer were apparently taking effect.
"See you inside, bud," Jerry said.
And with that, he left Benji outside by himself and walked back into the house. Once inside he ducked into the breezeway and peered out the window. Benji was still outside leaning against the tree. He was totally fucked up. This was going to be so much fun!
Benji had just finished his beer and was about to go back into the house when he heard a noise in the bushes. He turned.
"Who's there?" he asked loudly.
No response. Benji heard another rustle and moved closer. By now he was feeling really buzzed and tired. He needed to sit down fast before he fell down. There was a bench near one of the bushes, and he tried to make his way over to it. After what felt like forever, he finally got to the bench and flopped down. Then everything began to go black. He didn't see the four shapes approach him, nor did he feel his body being lifted from the bench and carried back through the bushes.