Disclaimer: This story is basically a fantasy involving humiliation, mild violence, and sexual activity between teenage boys. If you find such material offensive or in violation of the laws of your state/country, please don't read any further.
(c) Art M. Hill ArtHill579@aol.com All rights reserved (2004). If you enjoy this story, please email me.
High School Blues 26: Joe gets some new jewelry...
Nothing much changed for the next few months. Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went and I moved into the second semester of my freshman year at school. Mike and Jimmy still collected their weekly tribute of $100. I had settled into a work routine that was strenuous but not impossible to meet my added expenses. I also managed to keep up my grades so that mom and dad were happy. Thank goodness Mike and Jimmy didn't make good on their demand that I change my hair color every month. They did insist that I keep my pink mohawk in good condition, which I did.
The main difference was that now I was the personal cocksucker of Mike and his group and sometimes Chris and Dave as well. Whenever they didn't have dates or had broken up with their girlfriends I would get a call or be approached in school by one--or more--of them wanting to get their rocks off. Like an obedient little fag I did everything they wanted. Sometimes I would take four or five of them on at a time at Mike's house when he decided to throw one of his little "parties". I was truly amazed that none of the group spilled the beans to anyone else at school, maybe because they wanted me to be always available to service their own needs and didn't want to share with anyone else. So they were very careful about where they had me suck them off so that the word would not get out to the general student body. Even Chris and Dave said nothing to their teammates (for the time being) about their additional sexual outlet.
Terry and Bob on the other hand had nothing further to do with me. They avoided me in the hallways and during classes, and didn't speak to me in the cafeteria. I felt bad about our lost friendship, but began to think that they had really only wanted to use me themselves. If that was the case, they were no better than Mike and his crew--maybe even worse--since Mike was at least up front about his intentions.
One day Mike told me that Jerry, the tattoo dude, wanted to see me again to check on the tats. I was immediately suspicious since he had already checked right after they were done to look for infection. Mike said, however, that Jerry had told he that sometimes scar tissue built up and it was important to check for that also. If, indeed, scar tissue was forming I might have to go to a dermatologist to have it removed. Mike's explanation sounded plausible enough and even frightened me enough to actually want to go see Jerry. One Friday afternoon after school Mike accompanied me to the tattoo parlor that was located in a run-down looking building off Main Street, near the place where Mike and Jimmy had first ambushed me. Jerry was working on a tough-looking dude when we entered his office. The guy looked like he was with the Hell's Angels or some other outlaw motorcycle club. Jerry was making an elaborate and colorful dragon on the dude's bulging bicep. He invited us to sit down, and said that he would probably be another half hour, apologizing because the guy was late for his appointment. In the meantime, he offered us a beer from the frig in the back. Mike, who obviously knew the shop, pushed aside the curtain to the back room and was soon back with two beers, one of which he handed to me.
It was fascinating to watch Jerry doing his work (I hadn't been in any position to see what he had done to me at Mike's house.) He had an assistant that looked like a younger version of Jerry who helped him with instruments, swabs, etc. It was a much more complicated procedure than I had realized. Jerry and the biker kept up a steady stream of chatter that was not easy to follow since there was music blasting from an ancient radio on a shelf that looked like it could collapse at any moment. From time to time the biker looked over at me and grinned. For some reason his grin made me feel cold all over. Mike didn't make any comment since he was engrossed in the sports section of the daily news.
Finally the biker was finished, proudly displaying his new tat and, after having paid Jerry, swaggered out the door toward a cycle that I could now see parked across the street. Jerry then said that we would go into the back room since my tats were in rather embarrassing places--not to mention what they said-- and he didn't want any other customers to see me. What a big-hearted guy (yeah, sure!) What I didn't see as Mike accompanied me through the curtain was that Jerry's assistant walked to the front of the store, locked the door, and flipped the sign to read "Closed".
Jerry led me over to a padded, adjustable table and told me to lie down on my back. His assistant, whose name turned out to be Larry, brought over a tray with different instruments for the exam. Jerry told me that Larry was going to strap me down since the procedure could be uncomfortable and I shouldn't be moving around. He reassured me that the pain would be minimal since he would administer a local anesthetic. Of course I was becoming more and more suspicious as Larry, with a slight smirk on his face, fastened my legs, midsection, wrists, and even my forehead with broad leather bands attached to the table. Larry then placed a small surgical-type curtain almost directly in front of my face, effectively blocking my view of the procedure. Jerry told me that this was often done since clients tended to be squeamish and didn't want to watch while the exam was done. He then told me to relax, and that the procedure would be over before I knew it.
The guys were speaking in low voices, but I was sure I heard Jerry say to Mike: "Have you decided which ones you want?"
"Yeah," said Mike, "I think these would look cool on `im."
"Okay," said Larry, "I'll sterilize em and have em ready right away."
Just then I felt the anesthetic being injected, not where I thought it would be, but rather at the base of my nipples. When I began to object, Jerry soothingly told me that the nerve ending for the upper chest were all concentrated in the nipple area so that's where the injections were given. Before I could ask any more questions, both my nipples began to go numb from the anesthesia. A relaxed a bit since Jerry sounded like he knew what he was doing.
Dimly I heard Jerry continue to talk with Mike. Larry came back in and they all laughed. At that point I definitely began to have my doubts, but I was effectively immobilized and could do nothing. I heard the squeak of a stool and the clatter of instruments, and I presumed that Jerry was ready to do the exam. A few moments later I felt a strange pulling and pressure on my nipples followed by a dull pain--first in one and then, a few minutes later, in the other. I felt swabs being pressed down on my nipples and held in place for a few minutes. Through the numbness it now felt like a sticky gel was being applied to each nipple.
"All finished," I heard Jerry say. "Everything looks fine. Now just lie here for a few minutes and rest. We'll be right here. I'll lift up the curtain and un-strap you then. I heard what sounded like three beers being popped and the sound of talking and laughter. Apparently the trio had moved to the front room. I forgot to ask why Jerry hadn't checked the tattoo over my butt.
"Wow," I heard Larry say. "They look awesome. They really set off those tats. Can I see the one on his pussy before you go? I didn't get a chance to get a good look before."
"Sure dude," said Mike. "It's the best of the batch. Hey Larry, dude, your boss is really the man." More laughing.
"That was a great idea," Jerry said, "those nipple rings really finish off the tats, especially those bulls-eyes around his boobs. Now he looks like he could work in a strip club."
"Yeah," said Mike, laughing. "I didn't want to get `em too soon after the tats. Didn't want to freak the fag out. But this is perfect. I really owe you buddy."
"That you do," said Jerry. "Tell you what I'm gonna do for you. This whole thing has really gotten me off. You give me some good weed--and I mean really good--and we'll call it even."
"Wow, dude," said Mike, "you'd really do that for me? Shit, bro, you're the greatest."
Mean while, I was in a state of shock. Nipple rings! Did I have nipple rings now? Hadn't they messed me up enough? As hard as I tried I couldn't move to see what had happened.
Jerry sent Larry into the back room to remove the curtain. He had a huge grin on his scruffy, handsome face. His blond hair was tied back in a pony tail. I also noticed that he had a big bulge in his grungy Levis. I still couldn't see what Jerry had done because my eyes were blinded by the light that he had positioned over me, and my body was still restrained. "Hold on for a minute, boy, " Larry said, "I'm gonna take off the straps now. Then you can see yourself. Boy, your master sure picked a good set of rings: top quality."
I shuttered as my worst fears were confirmed: not only was I branded; now I was pierced! And what did he mean by `your master'? It almost made me sound like I was a slave...
Larry then removed the leather restraints and helped me get up. I didn't realize how weak I was after my ordeal. I could now see the results of Jerry's " exam" and almost fainted. I did have nipple rings, and combined with the bulls-eyes around my tits I looked even more like a slut, a piece of meat that anyone could use.
Larry spun me around in his strong arms so he could see the tat on my back. He laughed and gave a wolf-whistle as he saw the `Fuck Me' tat. He sensually squeezed my butt cheeks in his big, rough hands. Then he pressed himself against me, squeezing me against the table, and rubbing his hard cock up and down my ass crack. "Stay here for a minute," he ordered.
I saw him push aside the curtain and speak to Mike in a low voice. In the meantime I was feeling so weak that I had to sit down. My butt was also tingling where Larry had touched it and I felt my cock begin to stiffen. Larry was back in a minute grinning ear to ear. "Hey, faggot," he gloated, "your master just gave me permission to get some head from you. Now get down on your knees and unzip me. Larry sat on the chair and spread his legs. I was about to protest but thought better of it. Mike would only ball me out or worse.
As I slowly unzipped his Levis, Larry pulled my face into his unwashed crotch and rubbed my face all over it. The musky smell was very strong, but once again it was a turn-on for me. Larry sighed as he pushed my face into his boxers where it came in contact with his uncut cock, which was already leaking precum.
I fished his cock out and began to lick it. "Wait a minute fag! I want you to lick my balls first." He got up on the padded table and pulled his jeans and boxers down in one motion. "Now get up here and wash the funk off my balls. I haven't washed `em in three days and they need a good cleaning."
Obediently I climbed up on the table while he raised his legs and draped them over my shoulders. He was wearing harness boots under his Levis, and the feel of the warm leather pressing against my back set me on fire. I dove into his crotch and began to bath his balls. Then I sucked them gently into my mouth and rolled them around on my tongue. Although they did, indeed, taste funky, they were not unpleasant. Larry meantime was getting more and more into it: " Yeah, that's right, faggot, toss those nuts, suck on em, spit em out, and clean `em good, you fucker." Then he lifted his legs higher exposing his ass crack to me. "Now fag," he said, "it's time to eat out my ass."
At first I was aghast. I had never done that and I didn't want to. But there was just something so sexy about this guy that I found myself plunging down and licking his tight globes and even swiping along the crack. "Yeah, fag, that' s it," he encouraged. "Now pull them cheeks apart and suck my hole." Again I was taken aback in disgust, but ended up following his orders like a robot. I found his tight little puckered hole and began to lick and suck it. His ass also was unwashed but even that didn't stop me. Suddenly I was a pig and couldn' t get enough of his hole. Larry was going wild as I pushed my tongue again and again against his resisting sphincter until finally my tongue slipped in. A deep groan was forced from his chest as my tongue slipped up his hole and began to swirl around and around. Dimly I heard laughing as Mike and Jerry, drawn by all the commotion, came into the back room.
"Man it must be the nipple rings," Mike laughed. "He never ate out my ass before, but believe me, he will from now on." Jerry just shook his head in disbelief as his hunky young assistant writhed around on the table as he reacted to the intense pleasure I was giving him.
Finally he pushed my head out of his ass and thrust his cock into my gaping mouth. As I slipped my tongue under his silky foreskin I found even more cheese than Terry had. Since I had developed a taste for it, I sucked and licked it out with relish as Larry cursed and swore at me. "Fuck! Do it dicklicker, swab out that foreskin. Eat that cheese, you damn pig! That's the way."
Larry could take no more. He thrust his huge dick all the way down my throat until my face was tight against his pubes. He made several deep thrusts. Then I felt his cock, buried to the hilt, swell and quiver as his long rod exploded deep in my throat. Like Chris, he fed me a huge amount of thick, creamy jizz, shooting and shooting until I thought I would drown. He sighed as his cock began to soften and I gently cleaned it as I had been taught to do. Finally, after keeping his cock in my mouth for several more minutes, he withdrew it, looking totally satisfied. I put my clothes back on glad, now, that the ordeal was over.
"Man," said Larry, "can he do me again some time? That was for sure the most awesome blowjob I've ever had. Never knew how good fags could be."
Laughing, Mike said that he would see, but that next time he owed a good one to Jerry for being such a bud about the tattoos. "Come over sometime, Jer, he' s all yours--unless you want to share him with Larry. Just remember, not a word to anyone. He's my personal faggot and I only share him with my buds."
"Look," said Jerry, "the fag shot in his pants. He must really have the hots for Larry."
"Nah," said Mike, "he does that with everyone he sucks. He's such a fag that he can't live without a cock or a smelly foot in his face."
"He's into feet too?" Larry asked. "No wonder he got so excited when I put my boots over his shoulders. That musta got him to lick out my hole. That right asslicker?"
I just hung my head in shame as the three of them stood there laughing at me. At that moment I really got a good look at my tit rings for the first time. Damned if there wasn't something cool about them. My cock sprung up again, making my cum stained pants bulge out obscenely.
"Oh-oh," Mike said in mock concern. "The fag is getting ready to blow again. Those tit rings musta made him extra horny. I better dump him off before he sprays your whole studio." With that Mike marched me to the door. Larry unlocked it and grabbed my ass again as he smiled lewdly at me. "See ya soon, fag."
"Thanks again Jer. I'll be talkin' to you. Later dudes..."
"Let's go to my place for awhile," Mike said. It was a command, not an invitation. When we got there it was almost 7:00 pm. Once again I was calling home asking if I could stay out and have dinner at Mike's. Since my folks had such a positive impression of Mike (from one phone call?) they immediately agreed and said they would see me later.
Mike had a smirk on his face when he saw how easily he had conned my folks. " I guess gullibility must run in your family, Crawford, or maybe I'm just a really good actor. What do you think, huh?" Mike wasn't really looking for an answer since he turned and walked out to the kitchen. A moment later he was back with two beers, hefting one to me before he flopped down on the couch, turned on the TV, and began surfing the channels.
"Mike," I said, "do you mind if I lie down for a little while. I really need some rest and these nipple rings are starting to sting.
"Yeah, go ahead," he said. "But from now on you call me Sir. I don't want to hear you call me Mike again. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir, I understand," I said with resignation.
"Good," said Mike. "Jerry gave me some pain pills. Take one if the pain gets bad."
I'd had it, of course, with Mike's pills. Even if they were really what he said they were, I wasn't going to take a chance. I would rather feel the pain than end up drugged again. I walked out on the porch and collapsed.
"Yeah J', we just got back from there. He's got a fuckin' ring in each nip. Jer was great. I tell you the guy is a real artist...No, pussyboy didn't suspect a thing until it was too late. Hell, he didn't really even feel anything. You should see him J'. Hey, how about comin' over and you can look at him for yourself. I'm gonna call some of the other guys and see if they want to take a peek at the freak. (Did it again, man!) I'll call in for a couple of pizzas. You want to pick them up on your way over...Yeah you do, you lazy fuck. And bring more beer while you're at it. You drink half of it anyway...No, fuck you."
Damn, `J' is a lazy son of a bitch; always trying to get somebody else to do his work. He's gonna have a field day with Zits. Probably have him doin' all his chores. I'm gonna have to put some limits on that shit or he won't have time to do the work I'm gonna give him!
Crawford was out cold as the guys began drifting in. "Go out on the porch and see Sleeping Beauty if ya like. Don't wake her up just yet. I want everybody here when we have her display her new jewelry."
I was really surprised that everybody showed up. No shit about dates or homework. I guess all the guys were really curious to see Zits with his new Tits. Hahahahahahaha! I resisted the urge to call Chris and Dave. I wasn't sure I could trust them yet, and didn't want them to think they were part of our gang and maybe find out about the gym equipment...at least not for now. I did owe Jer and Larry big time, but I wanted them to come another time when we could have some privacy. They deserved it.
When everybody was there, `J' showed up with the pizza and beer and the guys were in the mood, so I went out to get Tits, I mean Zits (man, I didn't know what to call him by this time. Maybe we should take a vote!)
When he came in it was almost like he expected the guys to be here. I guess he was learning something about how I thought. That was a real good thing for a new slave. Helped you train `im better.
"Hey guys," I announced dramatically. "Zit's wants to show you his Tits (no sense wasting my brilliant pun!)
I'll have to say that the fag was learning obedience. He immediately took off his shirt and showed the guys his new rings. Right away there was applause, cheering, and cat-calls. Zits was once again the star of the evening. All the guys lined up in front of him to see his jewelry and look at his tats again. " Don't pull on them nips yet, dudes," I warned. "He just got `em today and they 're probably still pretty sore." Well, I had to take care of my property, didn't I?
"Okay, let's get some eats and brews. By the way, anyone who wants a blowjob from Zits, don't be bashful. His mouths ain't sore and believe me, he sure as hell knows how to use it."
The only one who didn't want head was Shawn. That meant that J', Phil, Brad, Tod, Carl, Stew, and I used the fag's services. The guys were all amazed at how good he was, and the room was filled with groans for quite awhile. Some of the guys went back two and even three times. Zits must have taken about 18 loads by the time we were finished. All Shawn did was go up to him, spit right in his face, and call him a damn motherfucker. Well, like I say, to each his own'.
The guys had all left by 10:00 pm. Zits didn't look too good. As a matter of fact, he looked almost green from swallowing all that cum. I warned him not to heave in my place, but to wait until he got home. When I had him trained better, he'd be able to take even more loads without even a twitch in his tummy. Maybe we could even hire him out to make some extra bucks. Man this was gonna be great!
When I arrived home I began thinking again about my situation. What was happening to me? I was letting Mike and Jimmy treat me like their property. By now I figured pretty much that I must be gay--at least that's what my cock seemed to be telling me. Funny thing is that until Mike and Jimmy started bullying me, I was only attracted to girls. I didn't have much success in getting a date, but that hadn't stopped me from trying. My erections had been totally over the more attractive girls in the class and in my own fantasies when I jacked off. Now I looked at all the cute guys--especially the jocks--and started to get a hardon. Not only that, but I actually enjoyed being bullied and even physically roughed up. I got aroused when Mike, Jimmy, and their buds used me, tricked me with their cruel jokes, and ordered me around like I was their slave. Now Mike wanted me to call him `Sir' and even that got me aroused. I was more confused than ever. I wasn't sure any more what I wanted... All I knew was that I seemed to be hooked by the whole idea that I was being dominated and humiliated by a couple of good looking jocks. Maybe I really did need an aggressive, physically and verbally abusive guy in my life...
(to be continued)