I've been an eager consumer of Nifty stories for a while, particularly all the fabulous NPhillydogg series. In fact, it was just as I was waiting for the latest episode of The Hole (in the gay authoritarian section) that I finally decided to try my hand at writing something myself. I'm still not very sure how good this turned out and where the story will go, if it ever goes anywhere. Any feedback (port_pass@hotmail.com) will be highly appreciated.
A couple of clarifications: I am from Portugal and that's the local context of my this story (and others to follow, if this one doesn't in a cyber-bin). To simplify things, any measurements I use I'll convert them for those who are not familiar with the metric system (but guys, listen! the whole World does NOT use that unpractical system of yours! Once you try a decimal system you won't be able to resist it... just like cock). English is a foreign language for me and you'll probably find a lot of mistakes. I know I mix a lot of British and American expressions (and spelling), so it may read a little weird at times. Anyway, I hope it doesn't turn out that bad and serves the purpose of amusing you men and, of course, the goal of helping you get off.
THINKING BACK
Part One
`Quem se mete por atalhos, mete-se em trabalhos'
(Taking short-cuts only gets you into trouble)
Thinking back, I guess I was always a bit of a sissy. You know... overprotective mom sort of made me scared of anything... lousy at sports... My childhood friends were not that much into sports either, and in fact most of them were girls. Not that I played dolls or anything with them... or, well... I guess I did sometimes.
Physically, I was a little short for my age, a bit overweight, but quite cute thanks to my blue-eyes, blondish hair, pale skin and naturally reddish lips. All in all, you could say I looked slightly girlish. Not strikingly feminine, but I guess I looked to pretty and my meaty hips looked a little too curvy for a boy. Besides, I was almost mostly smooth and even my pubic hair came out rather late.
I was 12 when my dad decided it was time I should stop being mommy's boy and moved me from my local close-to-home school to his old boys-only catholic school in the centre of town. My parents were far from rich and even though the school wasn't extremely expensive it was still an extra expense for them. I do have to praise the huge effort they always did to give me and my brother (5 years my elder) the best education. I believe I fulfilled their expectations in becoming a successful professional but not so much in my personal life. In that respect, my dad's decision to move me to another school sort of turned out the wrong way, though more likely it only made the inevitable happen earlier than for most.
The new school was in fact just a 15 minute bus ride away, or half-hour walk, but for me, the idea of going to an unknown school, take a public bus everyday (it was much cheaper than the school bus) and be away from my friends seemed terrible. I have to admit I cried a lot, which only made my dad even more determined to put his foot down and get things done his way for once, in spite of my whining and my mom's bickering.
Once I started to get used to it, I had to admit it wasn't really as terrible as I imagined, though I did always feel a bit out of place and particularly hated the gym classes (real ones, not the childish thing we had at my old school). I even started to fit in and make some new friends. Besides, I was always good at all the more academic subjects and seeing that I could excell in a much larger and more competitive school actually started to boost my scarce self-confidence a little.
On the down side, my good performance in class (I wasn't even wise enough to tone it down) only added teachers' pet' and nerd' to `sissy'. It was a perfect mix to attract bullies...
I should explain that in schools in Portugal (that's my country) there's not a strong tradition of bullying, at least not in my days (that was 30 years ago), but boys are boys anywhere in the world and I was just too good a victim for them to miss on the opportunity, especially since I looked so lovely when they made me blush purple red. Even so, they didn't bother to pester me too much... just humiliating me in public now and then, the occasional beating, stealing my lunch money... nothing a good British or American bully would think much of.
There was nothing really sexual either, though sometimes they'd do me an amostra' (literally means a showing'): they'd pull my shorts or trousers down and my undies as well and expose my ass and my dick (which was never much to show for, adding a lot to my embarrassment, of course).
Even so, their bullying was more than enough to make my life miserable. And the worse part was that some of the bullies happened to live in my area, which means they travelled in the same bus to and from school and I always risked bumping them in the neighbourhood.
One day, I was taking the bus home and as usual it was packed with the rush hour crowd: lots of boys and girls from the schools in the centre of town, as well as the common working crowd. Miguel and another three bullies started picking on me. They were all 2 or 3 years older than me and I knew them all from the neighbourhood and from school.
Miguel was always the ring-leader. He was 15 years old, dark haired, star of the local junior soccer team. His family lived in a big house at the top of my street. He had several brothers and sisters. Their father had made a lot of money in some sort of deals and they were all a bunch of spoiled brats.
I was used to Miguel and his buddies bullying me at school and, but nothing serious had ever happened on the way home (I did try to keep out of their way, just to be on the safe side). This time, however, they started picking on me and suddenly Miguel came up with the sinister idea that they should give me an `amostra' right there and then. The four of them already had me conveniently walled to a corner of the standing platform at the back of the bus and before I knew it my trousers and undies were being pulled down. I didn't even try to protest, scared that it would only draw the attention of the rest of the passengers packed around us.
I think my obvious terror that the people would see me half naked inspired them to carry on their prank by pulling the trousers and undies off me and eventually there I was, naked from the waist down in a crowed bus. The only thing protecting me from utter public humiliation was the screen they formed around me themselves. To their amusement, I just went on and on begging them to give me my trousers back, whispering my pleas, desperate not to be overheard, tears running down my cute red-hot blushed face.
Eventually, we were coming to our stop and I was beginning to panic. At the last moment, Miguel whispered in my ear `Don't worry, we're leaving your trousers there on the other corner of the platform' and the four of them just poured out the exit door, laughing loud and cheering each other, before I could even say anything.
I was so stunned it took me a few seconds to react. I scuffled through the passengers on the platform, desperately looking for my trousers, my round pale buns and my little weenie in plain sight. I heard some shocked exclamations and a lot of giggles as I stumbled around and eventually recovered my trousers, just to find they had tied the legs into a tight knot. By the time I managed to untie the knot and stumble back into my trousers, a couple of minutes had passed and everyone at the back of the bus had realised what was happening. By now there was a wave of giggles and laughter all around me, with some dirty comments here and there. A loud cheer escorted me when I finally managed to exit the bus, at the next stop.
The first thing I did was to run into a near-by alley, in a hurry to escape from sight of the people that had left the bus at the same stop and had witnessed my exposure. I just sat behind a dumpster, crying, hugging my back-pack for a good half-hour before I finally walked home, hoping I was recovered enough so my parents and my 17-year-old brother wouldn't notice anything strange.
The next morning, and from them on, I tried all I could to avoid running into Miguel and his buddies. I was also terrified of facing any of the people who had witnessed my public humiliation. I decided to take an earlier bus in the morning and walk home in the afternoon.
Of course, there was not that much I could do to escape Miguel and the others at school. The moment the gang caught sight of me, I had to endure all their cruel jokes about my pretty ass and my tiny dick and what a little pervert I was that loved showing them around in public. Worse than that, word went round like fire about my unfortunate adventure, so the teasing and the humiliation were everywhere, until the story wore out and things slowly started to get back to normal, or something like it.
On my way home on foot, I usually took a shortcut through a pine wood which led me right to the back of a couple of small ruined warehouses. I just had to cross the roofless buildings and I was right at the top of my street.
About a week after the bus incident, I was crossing the warehouses on my way home when I came face-to-face inside with Vitor, Miguel's older brother.
Vitor was 17, the same age of my brother, and in fact they were best buddies, something my parents didn't approve much, as Vitor was a well-known a trouble-maker and had even had problems with the police before, though nothing his dad's money wouldn't solve. He was not very tall, had a dark curly hair and dark eyes like his brother and a tanned bony face, with a trimmed body, thin but muscular. He had this mix of spoiled brat with street thug that always made me feel uncomfortable when he showed up at our place looking for my brother Andre.
He was leaning back on some old big wooden crates and... he had his dick out of his jeans. He was holding a porn magazine and a cigarette on his left hand and he had obviously been jerking off with his right hand.
I had caught him in an awkward situation, but he seemed a lot less embarrassed than I was. I blushed instantly, like I always do, and tried desperately to pull myself together. At last, I mumbled an excuse, turned around and headed for the opening in the boarded door that would lead me to the street.
That's when he called me. Hey kid, wait a minute.' I froze. You're Alberto's kid brother right? Ah... Alex, isn't it?' he asked. Ah... well... yes, my name is Alexandre in fact' I mumbled (I never did like people to call by the diminutive). Yeah... whatever', he replied.
I was feeling more and more uncomfortable with the situation. I turned back and saw he had resumed playing with his hard cock. I tried not to look, but I my curiosity was stronger than me so I did peep at it a little. I am sure he noticed it, as he pushed his hips forward and gripped the base of his cock, like he wanted to show it off to me.
I was no expert on cocks (yet...) but this one seemed huge. In fact the only hard dick I had seen, apart from my little weenie, was my brother's and I was always too shy to look at it good enough to be able to compare sizes with Vitor's. Even in the locker room at school I was always too shy to look at other boys' dicks. I mean, not that I wanted to look... but all the boys always look, right? It doesn't really mean a thing. Besides, I was certainly too young and too innocent to even wonder about sex in general... let alone my own sexuality.
My brother told me about that little prank they pulled on you on the bus.' I blushed even more, if that was possible. He's a mean little bastard that one. But he's right about you... you do look cute.' This was really going bad... God, I wished there was a hole on the ground I could just escape into. `Come here, don't be shy. It's no big deal, jerking off. It's just you and me here, two guys, no problem.'
That's when I tried to articulate an excuse and head for the exit, but he insisted, this time raising the tone of his voice `Hey kid, I told you to come here.' At the same time he moved closer to the boarded door, cutting my exit to the street.
I bet you've never even seen a dirty mag, have you?' I shook my head. C'mon, I know you're curious. Relax and have a look', he added, handing me the mag and giving his cigarette a long puff. His right hand kept sliding up and down his hard cock. I was too scared to argue... and maybe a little curious, so I picked up the magazine and took a look. It was all colour photos of girls sucking dick and getting fucked. He just stood there smiling as I went through the pages, fascinated but also scared and a bit ashamed of the whole situation.
I'd love to get my hands on one of those bitches right now, wouldn't you?' he laughed. Y... yes... sure...' I stammered, trying to sound at least a little butch. Or maybe that's not your thing...' he let out, looking me straight in the eye. I looked down, blushing with an extra wave of embarrassment. Maybe you'd rather be in taking dick like those sluts.' Oh man... now I was REALLY blushing! I wished so much I was out of there, but I was just too scared and confused to even considered trying to escape.
Yeah, I think my little brother is right... you're a natural born sissy, aren't you?' I just stood there, frozen, my eyes getting watery with tears. He took the mag off my hands and grinned. It's ok, kid. I have no problem if you like dick, quite the contrary. You just need to do as you're told and you'll be all right with me, ok'
I just stood there, a bit stunned by all this, and almost dying of embarrassment. He gave a last puff to the cigarette and crushed it under his sneaker before he ran the thumb of his left hand over my naturally glossy red lips. Then he ran his finger over my cheeks, cleaning the tears. `Yeah, you're a cute little bitch all right.'
Then he I held my hand and guided it to his dick. It felt smooth and hot when I touched it, and very hard too. It didn't feel bad, but I think I was too scared and ashamed to be the least turned on. His right hand was on the back of my head now, his fingers running through my hair as he pushed me down, forcing me on my knees. My face was right in front of his cock now, a big steely boner pointing up so high his knob almost touched the thin line of hair that ran up to his navel between his hard abs.
His hand pushed my head forward, rubbing my face on the hard dick. He just enjoyed the feeling for a while, before he held it and slapped it hard on my face a few times, making me whimper. He fingered some precum from his piss list and smeared it on my lips. It was gross and I flinched back, but he held my head in place. The juice was salty but it didn't taste bad. He pushed the finger in my mouth, sliding it in and out, like he was getting me used to what was coming next. He told me to suck on it, and I did. Suck harder, bitch'. It wasn't the first time he used to work, but the way he said it now seemed to hit me like a punch. Yeah, suck that finger good'. I did, I sucked hard, so hard I almost lunged forward when he suddenly fought the suction of my mouth to yank the finger out.
I think I didn't even get to close back my mouth while he pushed his cock down to a straight angle and pressed the big knob between my lips. His right hand was always still on my head, but now it was pulling my hair, holding it roughly in place as he pushed his cock in, the painful grip on my hair making me open my mouth wider for it.
I sucked hard, just as I'd sucked on his finger, only his cock was much bigger of course, making me strain my mouth wide open. The salty taste of his precum was much stronger now, as it leaked over my tongue. He pumped my mouth for a while, not more than a few minutes for sure, before he started to groan louder and held my head firmly in his hands. I didn't know enough to realise it, but he was already going over the edge. The hand-job he was working on when I dropped in had probably more to do with that than my clumsy blowjob.
Suddenly he lunged forward, forcing his cock into my throat. I couldn't help gagging hard, again and again. My empty stomach contracted and my spine arched as my body jerked and squirmed, trying to escape the brutal assault. All along he never let go of my head and just screamed loud with every spurt of burning hot teenage cum that splashed deep in my throat and rushed down to my stomach.
When he finally let go of me and pulled his cock out, I desperately gasped for air and my stomach contracted so hard his cumload just shot back through my mouth in a bitter vomit, splashing the slime on the floor and some on sneakers, while I fell down to my hands and knees, panting, tears running down my face.
I looked up and saw him examining his dick for any teeth damage. Then he looked down and saw the vomit stains on his sneakers and got really angry. Before I knew it he slapped me hard and barked `clean up that fucking mess, you bitch!' As I just looked up, puzzled, he slapped me again and pushed my face down. I had no choice but to try to lick his soiled white Adidas clean the best I could, until he thought it was enough and yanked me up by the hair back to my knees.
And another thing... you better be careful to keep those sharp teeth out of the way, or you'll be real sorry. Understood?' As I didn't answer quick enough, he slapped me again and repeated the question. Understood?!' This time I nodded and mumbled a `yes'.
As he pulled up his jeans and packed back his cock, he gave me last instructions: Be here tomorrow at the same time, bitch!' I nodded. And make sure you'll be here, bitch' he added. If you thought it was bad having your queer butt mooned on the bus for everyone to see, you won't want me to spread the word that you're a faggot cocksucker, do you?' A rough tug on my hair stressed the question again: Do you, bitch?!'
`No, Vitor! Please don't tell anyone. I will be here tomorrow, I promise!' Suddenly the terrifying thought that people could actually come to know about what had just happened almost made me panic.
`Good boy. Tomorrow we'll have some real fun' he warned with a grin as he lit another cigarette. I got up from the floor, cleaned the drool and vomited cum from my lips with the back of my hand and stumbled across the old warehouse out onto the street.