...

High School Bully

(mm) anal, oral, rim) (humil) (nc)

I reworked an old story I found on the internet. I hope the original author does not mind my reworking and extending the fun. dale10

  • 01
  • 02
  • 03
01

Hazing at my high school was quite popular. The school was an all-male school, and there were lots of jock boys who endlessly seemed to pick on freshmen, nerdy or geeky boys, and anyone else who had pissed them off. Needless to say, there were a lot of boys who suffered all kinds of embarrassment and humiliation. As one of the more quiet types, I tried to stay under the radar and out of the way of the jock boys. And for the most part, I succeeded. Only once, on the bus ride home from school, was I dragged to the back of the bus and given a wedgie that ripped my underwear totally off. Fortunately for me, things stopped there.


For many others, including several of my friends, things were much worse. This story is about one of the most memorable situations that happened after school on the bus ride home. A handful of the worst jocks rode the same bus I did, and they always camped out in the back of the bus. Anyone who got too close could be pushed or pulled right into their hands. Lots of the boys received wedgies, were depantsed, spanked until they cried, and much worse. One of these incidents led me to do callous and sexually perverted acts on a fellow student. It also brought to the surface my sadistic side, something I have had to cope with ever since.


One warm day in late April, my friend Rob and I were on the bus together. We became friends during our freshman year and usually rode together on the bus, although Rob had further to go to get home than I did. One afternoon, the rowdy jock gang was harassing an adorable freshman named Steve. Rob and I were in the back half of the crowded bus, close enough to see the antics that happen in the back of the bus but not so close that we would be part of them—at least we hoped not.


Steve was a slender, blond, blue-eyed kid about four-foot-eleven and eighty-five pounds. He was always dressed nicely but not better than the average kids at our school. Steve played the French horn in the school band, so as a cute, geeky, freshman he was a prime target. Rob was also in the orchestra, and I played the piano. We knew Steve and liked him, but we weren’t really close friends. Steve was always being called a fag or a sissy, and given his slight frame and demeanor, I was curious about his sexual orientation. Rob was a cute preppy blond, taller than me at about six feet and athletic. He was muscular, and at that age, his body curiously interested me.


So as Rob and I are talking, we realized that the action at the back of the bus meant someone was about to be humiliated at the hands of the jocks. As we looked back to see what’s happening, I was shocked to see Steve facing the guys and telling them to give him back his instrument, and he was mad. John, one of the jock boys, told Steve that if he wanted his horn, he’d have to take it back, which lured Steve right to the very back of the bus.


The jock boys just keep passing the horn around, teasing Steve until Alex decided it was time for more and came right up behind Steve and reached into his jeans, grabbing his underwear and yanked furiously. Rob and I could see the fear and pain on Steve’s face, and everyone started to laugh at the sound of the ripping underwear. In a matter of seconds, Steve’s underwear was in shreds and being tossed around the bus. It’s clear Steve was now without underpants under his jeans and still did not get his horn back.


Typically, this was when things would die down, but not today. Steve was still demanding his instrument. Finally, the guys told him he had to give them something if he wanted his horn. At this point, Steve lunged for the French horn and fell right into the lap of a couple of the other tormentors, and they grabbed hold of him and pinned him down.


“If he wants the horn so bad, we’ll let him have it in exchange for every stitch of clothing he has on.”


Steve was now squirming, but he was not strong enough for it to matter. The jocks, having a stronghold on Steve, pulled his Nike’s and socks off. When Alex starts unbuckling his belt, Steve really panicked and started hollering at the bullies.


“NO! You can’t! Please don’t do this to me!”


I was shocked, and I admit aroused as I saw Steve’s pants pulled right off of his smooth, pale legs. With his button-down blue oxford shirt still on, I saw a flash of blond pubes and his flaccid dick. Finally, Steve stood back up, bare-assed, except for the shirt. His hands were locked over his crotch while the bullies keep flipping up the shirttail and exposing and slapping his cute pale butt. It was one of the best-formed boy asses I have ever seen. Steve’s butt was quickly turning as red as his face.


Alex, still holding the horn, told Steve he would trade him the shirt for the horn. Steve was silent. Alex handed the instrument to one of his buddies and walked right up to Steve and pinched his nipples through the shirt. And then he hooked a finger inside the shirt a popped the first button. Then the next. Inevitably the shirt was now open, exposing Steve’s smooth chest. Steve’s hands were still firmly locked over his crotch.


Finally, Alex pushed the shirt over Steve’s shoulders and down his arms. The shirt helped to cover up Steve’s bare ass, but only for a moment before the shirt was yanked totally off and thrown out the bus window. Steve was bare-assed, using both hands to hide his cock while trying to keep his balance on the moving bus.


At this point, Rob and I were talking about how we would help Steve get home. We would be good Samaritans. We were interrupted by more laughter and looked up to see that the jock boys had pulled Steve’s hands away from his crotch and were using Steve’s shoelaces to tie his hands up to the grab bars. This gave everyone an unobstructed view of Steve’s cock and balls, ass, chest, and underarms. Once the knots were tied, Steve was helpless. Every now and then, someone would smack his ass and grab his nipples. Steve whimpered as tears and snot flowed over his face.


Powerless, Steve stood there looking down as the talk turned to his fear-shrunken dick. Alex decided to take bets on just how little Steve’s dick really was. Producing a small six-inch plastic ruler, Alex walked over and laid the ruler on top of Steve’s cock and announced, “two and a half inches.” Steve was mortified. More cock talk resulted in the jock boys betting on how big Steve’s dick would be hard. Remember, Steve was only a high school freshman and still developing physically.



Alex teased Steve’s nipples while one of the guys sitting down started to run the ruler up and down between Steve’s legs. In no time, Steve was growing into a full-blown erection with his hard dick sticking straight up and out. Using the ruler, Alex pushes Steve’s dick down so he can measure, causing Steve to groan.


“Five inches.”


The harassment continued as the guys realized that if they keep teasing Steve’s nipples and running the ruler around his legs, it gets him more excited. Finally, someone was using a pen to stroke up and down Steve’s cock, and he was begging them to please stop. That was not to be.


The jock boys kept up the teasing until Steve was clearly on the edge of an orgasm. Arms tied up and helpless, Steve started thrusting his hips and dick into the pen that was teasing his cock, trying to make contact. This was unbelievable, seeing him abandoning his modesty and thrusting wildly. His fists and toes clenched. Steve was gasping and moaning, and then his cock erupted, shooting his fuck juice straight up and out all over. The jock boys now made their way to the exit of the bus, each giving Steve’s bare butt a spank or grope as they passed. Steve was left tied up, spent, and on display.


Rob and I went to work, untying the knots as quickly as we could. We also each took off our shirts so that Steve could cover up. Every bit of Steve’s clothing was gone, but the French horn was sitting in a seat nearby. We grabbed the horn and flanking the trembling, terrified, sobbing boy, we ushered him quickly out the back door of the bus, leaving the passengers in the front to wonder what the hell had happened.


The bully jocks were gone. Steve, Rob, and I stood there in the late afternoon on a dusty road. We were not too far from our houses. Mine was the closest, then Rob’s and then Steve’s. Steve lived in the busiest section of town, amid hardware, drug, and grocery stores. Steve stood there with tears dripping from his face, still trembling. He was wrapped in Rob’s and my shirts and nothing else. He dug his bare toes into the dusty ground.


It was at that point when something evil in me took over. I don’t know if it was because I wanted to impress Rob, or perhaps it was the sight of Rob’s shirtless sexy torso with his tight muscles and nice full nipples. I just don’t know, but I became cruel beyond my own belief.


“Well, Steve, you’re going to have to give us our shirts back now,” I said casually, feeling my unbelievable hard-on pushing at my briefs and jeans.


“Yeah, I’ll bring ‘em to school,” he said, looking at his horn, which Rob held. He was always worried about the fucking horn because it was expensive.


“No, Rob and I need our shirts now. Our parents would kill us if we came home without shirts, and besides, they might think we were faggots or something. How would I explain it?”


Rob looked puzzled at my statements and frowned. He was adorable when he frowned. Then he looked down at the enormous hard dick lump in my pants, and he caught on. I reached out and grabbed the shirts Steve had wrapped around his waist and tugged them off his naked body.


Steve’s lower lip trembled, a bit of spit gathered at the corner of his cute lips. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.


“Eh...guys...please...I can’t...I can’t get home with no clothes.”


His hands had once again covered his cute teenage prick and balls. I shrugged and smiled.


“Well, you’re just going to have to. Tell you what. We’ll trade you our shirts for the horn!”


I loved how he hunched his naked teenage body to expose as little as possible. He was sobbing now, and my dick was leaking a lake in my underpants.


“You know I can’t give up my horn!”


“Stand up straight at attention!” I shouted at him.


He stood rigidly at once. The fucking kid was totally submissive. Maybe he was a sissy faggot like the jocks had said.

 

“Put your hands at your side. No need to cover that pathetic dick. It’s not big enough to fuck a cunt. The girls would just laugh at you.”


At that age, my dick was only a little over six inches hard, but I was just saying shit to spook Steve. Rob actually laughed at that remark of mine, and I glanced over to see his fuck meat hard in his jeans as well.


Now Rob was hung. In the physical department, he had everything. He was tall and muscular, and then he had this dick that was larger than the dicks of the seniors and the black boys at our school. The size of his dick was why the jocks never bothered him. He was a half-jock and half-nerd musician.


Steve stood there at attention, his small, slender body shaking. It was a warm afternoon, so he was not shaking from cold, but because he was a faggot pansy. That was what I told myself. Why was I suddenly so sadistic? What had come over me?


“You want one shirt to wear home? I’ll give you mine if you do what I say. I couldn’t see things clearly on the bus, too crowded, so play with your dick for me. Get it hard.”


“No, please. I can’t do that again. Please don’t make me.”


Rob and I turned on our heels and began to walk away. Rob, carrying the horn, put his shirt on.


“Guys! Puh.....puh....please....don’t...” His words were wracked with suffering sobs. “Okay! Okay!”


We turned to see him actually standing there on the dusty road, totally naked and trying to masturbate his dick. What fucking fun. He pulled on his dick and stretched it out, but it didn’t want to get hard. He apologized for it not getting hard and said he was too scared to get hard.


“Well then, I guess you don’t get your horn back or my shirt. Have a nice night.”


I smiled at him. He cried harder and pulled and pulled on his pathetically limp dick. I saw a stick lying in the dirt, a broken bit of tree branch.


“Well, if you can’t get hard, then you must be a pussy, right? Am I correct, Steve, that if you can’t get hard, you must be a pussy?”


“I don’t know. Please...I...guess...”


I looked over and was delighted to see Rob rubbing his big dick through his jeans.


“Good. Then prove it. Shove this stick up your asshole to prove you have a pussy.”


It was a good-sized stick, and at first, I thought I would be satisfied with him just poking the very end of it up his shithole. I stood there, smiling at him. Steve took the stick from my hand and looked at it.


“Go on, Steve Spread your ass cheeks and shove the stick up your asshole. The sooner you do it, the sooner you can go home, and a better chance that no one seeing you, right?”


“Do I gotta?”


Oh, the fucking submissive. I realized then that I could do whatever the fuck I wanted to do with him. Rob did, too, because he rubbed his dick lump to beat the band.


I somberly nodded and said quietly, “Yes, Steve, you gotta!”


I was being worse than the jocks ever were to anyone. Steve sniffed back fresh tears, swallowed, and reached back to spread his ass cheeks. What a fucking beautiful set of ass globes.


“It’s gonna hurt!” he whimpered.


“I know,” I said quietly. “Do it.”


Young freshman Steve forced the end of the stick up into his rectum. His hole must have been very, very tight because he really wailed when the rough stick broke through.


It was then that Rob did not care anymore and actually took out his fat teenage dick. He took it right out, and I could see it was leaking. He probably did not want to get dick leak in his underpants because his ma washed them. I remember almost keeling over at the sight of his big pink dick helmet. I wondered if he had ever fucked a girl and if it hurt her.


“There! It’s in! Now give me the shirt and my horn, please!”


I had never seen another live human being in such agony.


“Oh, Steve. You only got about four inches up your pussy. I want to see at least seven inches of that stick up inside of you. Pretend you’re one of the cunts from school, and Rob here is fucking you with his big dick. Let me see seven inches of stick up your pussy!”


“I can’t. Honest, I can’t. It hurts too much. It hurts too fucking much!”


His cute face was all screwed up, and spittle flew from his lips.


“Okay...goodbye then.”


Rob and I turned again and got three steps this time.


“Okay...oh, fuck...oh, fuck...okay. I’m putting more in. Look, I’m shoving it in.”


It was a magnificent sight. The cute lanky freshman had over seven inches of thick, rough tree stick shoved up his smooth pale ass. I walked around him and looked closely at his ass. Oh, was I having dirty ideas? You bet I was.


“Fuck yourself with it! Fuck it in and out!”


I heard him suck in air, and he sounded like a geriatric asthma patient. He began to force the gnarled tree branch in and out of his tender young asshole, tearing his ass lips. Rob moved in closer to watch as well, and now his hand was pumping his fat prick. I could tell Rob had a new respect for me, and I felt damned good. My dick wanted out of my jeans. I lowered the zipper, reached in, and re-adjusted my cock. My underpants were soaked with pre-fuck.


“All right, good job, Stevee, you can pull it out now.”


It took some time, as it was terribly painful for him to take it out. His inner ass must be burning from the rough wood of the stick. Finally, he stood there, holding the ass fouled stick in his hand. He held it up like some kind of trophy to show me.


“Good, Steve. You did well. Now be a good boy and suck the stick clean of your ass shit.”


Rob sucked in air at that, and I thought he would shoot his load, but he contained it. I watched as Steve’s cute face fell. He could not believe what he was hearing.


“For real?” he asked quietly, his nostrils flaring as he looked at the ass slime on the stick.


I smiled a sweet buddy-buddy smile.


“For real,” I said.


“Why are you doing this to me? I thought you were my friend.”


I shrugged.


“I guess I’m not. I’m doing this to you because you could not get your dick hard for us. Because you could not beat off and cum like you did on the bus. You let us down. That is why I’m doing this to you. Now suck on the fucking shitty stick!”

02
03