...

Dominated by Eric

mB, anal, oral, humil, reluc
fiveholepunch
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It was the beginning of summer. Timmy had just finished fifth grade and elementary school. He was going to go to middle school in the fall. And it was a Monday, and he didn't have to go to school!

His mom had gone to work, and he gotten up and had some milk and cereal. He could do anything he wanted. He decided to get dressed and go exploring in the woods. He wore a polo shirt and his scout shorts. These were his favorite for adventure as they had extra pockets for rocks and all the other stuff he could collect in the woods. There were loops for a flashlight and a clip for a compass or knife. He carried his house keys on this clip as he didn't have a compass and his mom wouldn't let him have a knife.

 

He ran down the stairs of his apartment building and, once outside, headed out the back of his development and down the dirt path into the woods. It was a perfect cool June morning with a little bit of moisture in the air from last night's rain. The path that went through the woods meandered alongside a creek that eventually led to a large pond. All of this was within a mile or two of his suburban apartment complex.

 

He visited the rope swing that hung on the side of a steep hill and then played near the creek some, making a dam with rocks and sticks. After a couple of hours of aimless adventure, he decided to head for "the rock." This was a large lump of granite and quartz, four feet tall and about as long as a bus, that lay exposed deep in the woods off of a short trail. It made a perfect place for battles and setting off firecrackers; all the risky stuff of boyhood.

 

He loafed on the cool stone for a while and then decided to dig in the dirt-filled crevices of the rock with a twig. He was so engrossed in this task that he didn't hear someone approaching the far side of "the rock" until they turned the corner.

 

"Well, well, look who's here."

 

Timmy looked up, and his stomach sank. It was Eric.

 

Eric was a eighth grader, well, now he was going to be an ninth grader that lived in the apartments that were immediately next to his apartment development. Nobody liked Eric because he was mean. Most kids in the neighborhood knew to steer clear of Eric.

 

"What are you doing out here all alone?" Eric asked with a slight hint of menace.

 

"Uh ... nothing."

 

"It doesn't look like you're doing nothing."

 

"I ... I ... I was just getting ready to leave," Timmy offered as a hasty lie to get out of there.

 

Timmy got up and slid down to the ground. He knew he couldn't run away as he wasn't fast enough to outrun the taller boy, but he was hoping to try to leave without Eric bothering him. It didn't work.

 

"Hey, not so fast," the fourteen-year-old unctuously objected.

 

Eric closed in. Timmy was trapped. "The rock" was behind him, and the bigger boy blocked the way out. Eric stood in front of him.

 

Timmy became acutely aware of Eric's appearance. He had a dingy t-shirt, worn jeans and dirty and disintegrating black Chucks; Eric was from a poorer background in every sense of the word. In that moment, Timmy painfully realized, being "sensitive," that we try to avoid seeing others too clearly. Eric had longish and greasy brown hair that framed what could best be described as a sullen visage. He had the stereotypical teenage delinquent face; a few pimples here and there and darkening fuzz on his upper lip. Eric's eyes, far from being menacing, were a sad gray.

 

Timmy lowered his eyes and turned trying to leave.

 

"I've got to go."

 

"I'm thinking you don't like me," Eric said with a surprising degree of irony given Eric's generally blunt demeanor, "You're not scared, are you?"

 

"N-no, I have to go somewhere with ... with my mom," Timmy stuttered his improvised excuse.

 

"I don't think so," Eric declared, stepping right in front of his attempted escape.

 

"Yeah, I have to ..."

 

"Shut up, you lying faggot!" Eric cut Timmy off angrily, grabbing his shirt in his fist.

 

Timmy was shocked and scared; shocked that Eric called him a faggot and scared that he would beat him up for lying to him. Eric leaned down inches from Timmy’s face.

 

"You think I am some sort of fifth-grade baby that you can bullshit?"

 

"N-n-no!"

 

"That's right."

 

Eric pushed Timmy in anger. He had used a appalling word, and Timmy was so scared he was almost in tears.

 

"You've got to be taught a lesson you little pussy. Pull your pants down," Eric ordered.

 

"Wh … what?"

 

Timmy didn't believe what he heard. What did this mean? He didn't think Eric would spank him. There was something else. He didn't understand what. Spanking was the only thing he could think of, but that didn't make sense.

 

"You heard me. I said take your pants down."

 

Timmy undid the snap of his explorer shorts and nervously tugged them down his smooth thighs. He had grown, and the pants were tight. He could feel the sharp edge of his house keys on the snap ring touching his bare leg.

 

"Your underwear, too."

 

Timmy’s lower lip quivered as he complied. He felt ashamed to have his pants down and his penis and bottom exposed.

 

Eric stepped up very close to me. Timmy was scared. Eric took the head of Timmy’s little two-inch, circumcised penis in the thumb and first two fingers of his right hand and he pinched it. It hurt.

 

"Oww!"

 

"Does that hurt?"

 

Eric pinched harder. Timmy’s knees bent from the pain, but he knew not to try to escape the older boy’s grasp, or he might beat him up.

 

"Innhh!" Timmy whined.

 

"You pussy," Eric snarled insultingly, "You don't even know what your dick is for, do you?"

 

The younger boy didn't answer for fear of making Eric mad. He just whimpered.

 

"Nnnhh."

 

"Your ass is mine next year, pussy," Eric threatened, "You're going to do everything I say. Got it?"

 

"Y-y-yes."

 

Eric released the preteen boy’s glans. It still hurt a lot.

 

"As a matter of fact, we're going to start right now, just so you know who's in charge," Eric announced, "You are going to stand here with your pants down for five minutes, and if you pull them up before then, I'll know. I'll find you, and you'll get a beating, understand?"

 

"Yes," Timmy replied meekly.

 

"Good."

 

Eric turned and started walking back toward the path.

 

"Later, pussy," were his departing words of contempt.

 

Timmy stood there behind the rock, and he could feel the cool air of the woods on his naked and exposed bottom. He looked down at his penis and saw it was red from the older boy's pinch. For some reason, it was somewhat stiff and sticking out a little. It still hurt, but it felt kind of funny.

 

Timmy waited and worried that someone would come along and see him with his pants down as kids played near "the rock" all the time. He thought about pulling them up after a minute, but he was worried that Eric might be watching. After about three minutes he took the risk and pulled up his underwear and scout shorts. He hid behind "the rock" where no one from the trail could see him for a few minutes, just in case. He then cautiously made his way back to the path and headed towards home. His penis felt painful for a while after that.

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