Note to the reader: I had real fun writing this story, so I hope you enjoy it. It's semi-true, based on something that happened in high school to a girlfriend of mine. I changed Michelle's sex to a boy, because I'm into writing about boys lately. Not everyone will like it; I hope enough do to justify the effort.
BTW: I'm a girl, not a boy. I just like writing off the wall stuff.
I had just turned 14. My friend Rick was 11 months older, almost 15. We were at the elementary school down the street, shooting hoops. Rick was a foot taller and 60 lbs heavier, but I was quick and nimble. It pissed him off when I scored on him almost at will. He'd dope slap me sometimes in retribution, or stick out his foot and purposely trip me, or pants me, if no one was around. No one was around that Sunday afternoon.
Panting and laughing, I stood there in my boxers, showing him I didn't care, being pantsed, which of course, I did. He'd dragged my boxers halfway down my hips, and they were especially low on the right side, actually revealing a few strands of pubic hair. I just stood there with hands on my hips, grinning defiantly.
Pacing, he bounced the ball and regarded me sourly. "Hot shot fucker. You think you're so smart, don't ya." He turned and fired a shot at the basket, and missed. By coincidence, the ball rebounded right to me. I put it under my arm.
Rick was dark complected, with brown hair and brown eyes. He made up for his lack of coordination with brute strength. I often wondered why he'd befriended me, blue eyed and blond, 5'2" tall and 105 lbs, a likely candidate for the Queer Boys Club, though I wasn't that at all. Not that I knew about, anyway. That was about to change.
"How 'bout I yank them down too," he said, indicating my boxers.
I looked around boldly. "No one here," I said. "My cock could use a little fresh air."
This made him both chuckle and flush. I should know better than taunt Rick like that. But sometimes the humiliation got my backbone up. Today was like that.
"It'd probably shrivel up and die from embarrassment," he said, cocking a hip and crossing his arms confidently. I was becoming intimidated.
"Truth or dare," he said.
I blinked, thrown off guard. "What?"
"You ever wanted to suck a cock?"
I gasped, appalled and offended. "Fuck no! And that's the truth," I yelled, yanking up my boxers. To my horror, my little guy was developing a boner that was obvious enough for me want to to hide it ... My face got hot and I began to get a squirmy feeling I didn't like, not at all.
"Truth or dare to you!" I shot back.
"You ever gotten any pussy?"
His grim was positively evil. "Don't ask, if you don't want to know, Carter."
That shook my confidence even more. What the hell did he mean, I wondered? Gina? Jenna? Oh God, no.
"Never mind," I said hurriedly, which meant, of course, that I took the dare instead of him. He nodded at my shorts, and then nodded sharply to let me know he wanted them down. My face was hot enough now to boil water into steam. I looked around, was vexed to discover we were still alone, and belligerently yanked them down into my shorts. I smiled at him, chin raised, hands on my hips. He began to laugh. My grin faltered. He yanked out his own cock for comparison and my grin went away completely. Even flaccid, he was significantly bigger than me fully erect. I suddenly understood the term "quail", and how it applied to me. Purple with embarrassment, I leaned down and awkwardly pulled up my boxers and then my shorts. He laughed, putting himself away. That ended Truth or Dare.
A week later, Rick suggested we shoot some hoops down at King. Of course, I didn't want to. I was more his minion at the moment, than his friend, and he'd pretty much steamrollered my self-confidence in that schoolyard. I was also dealing with intense feelings of guilt and impotence. I kept thinking about his cock, and how big and dangerous in looked. He was bigger than my father, bigger than anyone I'd ever seen, and bigger than most porn stars I'd seen in videos. It made me shiver to imagine him full of blood and ready to impale someone. I kept imagining that someone as me. I had begun to wonder about my own sexual identity the last few days.
I agreed, reluctantly. It was just getting dark and I wondered if the lights were on. Rick bounced the ball as we ambled down the sidewalk, chatting idly about girls and cars and movies and shows on TV and how we both hated school, especially Mr. Kane, our History teacher. Rick plotted ways to humiliate the dude in front of the class. I continually warned him against it, and so far he'd taken my advice.
"You know, Carter, you'd a pretty good guy for a pudge."
"Thanks for the compliment," I answered resentfully.
He laughed, dope-slapped me gently and then rumpled my hair. I smacked his hand away and he did it again. As we approached, the schoolyard lights came on and I regretted agreeing to come. We reached the gate, and went into the yard, but instead of heading for the courts, Rick elbowed the ball and walked toward the side of the building.
"Where we going?" I said.
"Time for some Truth or Dare, Carter."
I stopped dead in my tracks. He laughed, looking back at me. "I just want to talk," he said. "I figure it's better here, than in front of your house."
"What do you want to talk about?" I asked.
I cocked my head at him enquiringly.
"Trust me. It's a conversation you'll want to have back here. Take my word for it, Michael."
Grudgingly, I said okay and we rounded the corner and walked out of the illuminated area into near darkness. He stopped and leaned against the brick wall, rolling the basketball up and down his ribcage.
"I'm sorry that I embarrassed you last week."
"I'd like to make it up to you, Michael."
"How?" I asked. "Why?"
"Because sometimes I can be a real shit, and you shouldn't be a shit to your friends. Especially your best friend," he said, and I began to relax. He bounced the ball idly for a moment and then tucked it under his arm again.
"You're small. No one expects you to be hung like a horse, Michael."
"Gee, thanks," I mumbled. "So nice of you to diminish my embarrassment."
"You should be embarrassed by what I did, not by your size. Like they say, man, size doesn't matter."
"That's easy for you to say," I grumbled. "You're not 4-1/2" long and the size of your middle finger." I unconsciously grabbed my middle finger, further embarrassing myself. He laughed.
"Truth or Dare?"
"Awww, fucking great. I'm not taking off my pants, Rick."
He laughed again. "You don't have to. Truth or Dare?"
I nodded reluctantly. I should have said no.
"If I asked you to suck my cock ... no, let me rephrase that: Would you like to suck my cock? Hypothetically. I'm not asking you to."
"Truth or Dare my ass," I grumbled. "This is a fucking ambush, Rick. I'm getting out of here."
"Please don't leave," he said. The way he said it, made me stop. "Truth or Dare, remember?"
"What's the dare?" I asked, answering his question.
He sighed, something I hadn't expected. "Will you come back here, please?"
Reluctantly, I turned around and returned. He said: "I'd like an answer, yes or no. No dare."
I stood there mutely.
"Would you like to?" he asked softly.
"Do you want me to?" I countered.
He scowled, miffed. "Don't do that. Answer a question with a question. Do you want to or don't you?"
I fought to restrain my temper. "You're asking me if I want to suck my best friend's cock. You're asking me if I'm gay. You're asking me to tell you that I'm gay. I think that gives me the right to ask you if you want me to, or not, Rick. Do you?"
"That's not good enough," I said. "You're asking me to put your cock in my mouth and suck it. That changes everything. Who I am, what I am, what I'll be the rest of my life. I can never undo a cock, in my mouth." And then I sighed and told him, yes, I did want to, so would he please just ask me?
"OK. I want you to. Very much."
I eyed him in the dim light. "Thank you. For that. Now why do you want me to? Truth or dare."
He snorted, shaking his head. "You are too much. I want you to, because you're my best friend. I've been sucked by girls before, and it's always something I have to coerce them into. Or worse, they do it because it's expected of them nowadays. It means almost nothing anymore for a girl to open her mouth and suck a cock. With you, it would be different."
"How so?" I demanded.
"Because you'd enjoy it. You want to, and that's the difference."
I laughed bitterly. "Thank you for telling me what I want, Rick."
"You know what I mean," he said, exasperated. "You do. You just admitted you do. I'm glad you do. I've wanted you to do it for years."
This made me blink. "You have?"
Exasperated, he reached out and grabbed my right hand and slowly moved it to his crotch. Other than making a fist, I didn't resist. I felt the rigid softness behind the front of his shorts and heart pounded and I had trouble breathing. I gulped loudly, and it hurt. Slowly, wordlessly, I relaxed by hand and cupped it over his intimidating erection. "You are so fucking big," I whispered. "How the hell big are you?"
He grinned, blushing for once instead of me. Only, I was flushed deep as a plum and suffering heart palpitations. Rick was right. I wanted to suck his cock.
He took my hand and slipped it down the front of his shorts, between them and his underwear. I wrapped my hand around the form of his huge bulge. It was no less than 8" long and thick as a salami loaf. It scared me nearly into immobility. It was a while before I could breathe again and reassert control of my hand. I squeezed him gently and tried to control my breathing. I was close to fleeing in terror. I wanted to put my other hand in his pants.
"Can I have it?" I laughed, choking on my laughter. "I mean, can I hold it in my hand?" I could feel the damned thing thumping, writhing gently, a life of its own. It was roughly four times the size of my own cock. I shivered violently, giving away the extent of my excitement and fear. Nodding, he withdrew my hand and slid it down inside his boxers instead. My fingers slid around the monster and I began to tremble helplessly.
"Can I see it?" I moaned "I really want to see it."
He shook his head, telling me he wasn't ready to be sucked yet. It was hard enough to deal with another guy's fingers on his tool, and it hit me that a lot of his calm tonight was simple bravado. He was every bit as scared as me. Well, not quite as scared; he wasn't the one about to open his mouth for another guy's cock.
I shuddered violently again: What if he came? What if he wanted to do it in my mouth? What if he expected me to swallow him?
An earthquake of a shudder tried to shake me apart. If I did that-and God help me, I wanted to do that-it would make me completely queer. Sucking was one thing; swallowing his load of sperm was the ultimate intimate act. I thought I could live with being a cock-sucker; swallowing would twist my psyche forever, like over tightening a bolt and snapping off the head. There was no way to undo it then.
I whispered to him: "You won't ever tell anyone about this, right?"
He was breathing hard. The snake in my hand writhed, wanting out of its cave and into my mouth. He laughed, gutturally. "I can't post it on Facebook? Shit, Carter, what fun is that?"
"Promise me," I insisted. "I won't do it unless you promise me."
"I do, I promise. But fuck, Carter..." That's all he said. A moment later he unzipped his shorts, worked the monster out with difficulty, and pushed me to my knees. Seconds later my lips wrapped around his surprisingly small head and I began to suck.
This was four years ago. I'm 18 now and a month away from my Freshman year at NIU. I'll commute from home because we live only four miles away. Rick works full time at his dad's construction company and has no interest in higher education. He barely made it through high school. We're no longer friends. We haven't been for a long time.
It's hard, being gay and never having a closet to hide in. The very next day it was all over school that I'd sucked cock. Three guys from class were out behind the school with a night-vision equipped video camera and filmed almost the whole duration of Rick and my time back there. They hoped to catch a friend with his girlfriend back there and caught us instead. An edited version clearly showing my face swept through the school like wildfire. Eventually the cops got involved and the school administration. By then I was ruined. I was ruined the first day.
Not unexpectedly, Rick suffered none of my personal horror. He was actually a hero, his reputation taking a good upward kick over the size of his cock. He never had a problem with girls again. They flocked to him. I got asked out too; mostly by guys who wanted my mouth behind the elementary school building again. Guys are so cruel.
I have the video. More than one person sent it via email. After the first two dozen receipts, I closed out my email, my Facebook and my Twiiter accounts and stopped using my cell phone. There was no way to stop all the horrifying texts.
The first time watching I didn't make it to the bathroom before I puked, doing it in my cupped hands. I clung to the bowl shaking violently. Horrified is not a strong enough word for what I felt. I almost committed suicide that night.
My second time I had to stop the video and close my computer, but I didn't throw up. The third time I looked away whenever it became too hard, but I forced myself to play the whole thing through.
The video came in three versions. The short edition made its way around school. The 2nd, containing approximately half the original footage arrived 2 weeks after the first, and by then the original tape and all the copies were in the cop's hands. The full length version showed up two weeks after that, over 30 minutes long. It begins with me complaining over my pitiful 4-1/2" long cock, grabbing my right middle finger--another major wince moment. My only consolation is that it didn't make it into either of the earlier, more widely viewed versions.
I should clarify that my first four times involved the school version of the tape. (I dislike continually using the word video, sorry.). The fourth time I watched all the way through, and knew I was in trouble. I wasn't exactly aroused, but my heart rate kicked up and my blood pressure rose as the video progressed and my mouth came into use. This first version was 7 minutes long and contained 4 minutes of me sucking, though not the end where Rick held me still and came convulsively into my mouth. That part showed up in the 2nd version and spelled the end of my days at DeKalb High School.
The day after my fourth viewing, I received the 2nd version from my friend Barry, one of the few people I kept in touch with. He also provided the full length version when it came out, though not willingly. I pressured him into giving it to me. Barry is a good friend, one of the few I have left.
Barry warned me about the 2nd version, but being forewarned is not always enough. Aghast, I slammed closed my laptop and pushed back from my desk and kept pushing until the chair banged up against my dresser. I was shaking all over and my heart pounded like a giant fist against my breastbone. The boy holding the camera had zoomed in tight when it became clear what Rick was doing in my mouth, and every expression on my face was perfectly readable. I made a choking, retching sound almost identical to the one on the tape and had to choke back vomit. Watching me, you'd know I swallowed every spurt that I didn't gag on, cough out or leak from the corners of my mouth. I sat for 15 minutes wrapped in my arms as I shook uncontrollably. Barry had received this tape two days ago. How many had seen it so far?
My parents withdrew me from school and got me psychiatric counseling. I needed it. You'd need it too if the video showed you doing what I had done to that cock. The worst part was my parents knowing what I'd done. My father was so angry with me, so disillusioned: his son, the King Elementary School Cocksucker. Barry told me that everyone at school was talking about the 2nd tape, emailing it phone to phone, watching it in class with boys and girls alike peeking over shoulders and laughing and giggling. Anyone I'd been friends with became instant targets of ridicule. Except Rick, of course. Rick was digging his notoriety.
Three days later, I watched the 2nd version straight through and watched it again and then watched it a 3rd time. The 3rd time was the charm as they say, and midway through, I eased out my 4-1/2" and let it enjoy the spectacle of its owner energetically debasing himself and becoming the butt of all jokes at DeKalb High School. I feverishly ejaculated as the cock in my mouth exploded onscreen and choked me with fiery hot battery acid that I was forced to swallow if I ever wanted to breath again. I remembered with perfect clarity just how horrid that juice of Rick's had been. I watched as he came and came and came in my mouth, my own ejaculation not matching the one onscreen. I understood why Rick was so horrifyingly popular now.