Daemon Way

Teacher

Chapter Thirty-Five

"Ben, bring your book bag up here, please."

Surprised by the unusual request, Ben nonetheless did as had been requested, having been raised to never question teachers or others in authority, and not being of the personality to even think of doing such a thing.

"Open it please."

Puzzled, he glanced at Ashley Rowland who was standing there beside Mrs. Pakorny with a cat that's swallowed a canary look on her face. Now what? Ben knew that whatever was going on, it did not bode well for him. Looking inside his backpack and taking out a couple textbooks and a binder, Mrs Pakorny suddenly frowned. It was one of those guilt-inducing "how disgusting and you have really disappointed me" type of frowns that teachers have perfected. Holding them between her thumb and first finger, she slowly removed a pair of pink panties with white lace and dainty embroidery. Ben looked at them in absolute shock and surprise and the rest of the glass giggled and snickered until Mrs. Pakorny looked up and glared at them with another one of those looks that are the sole domain of teachers. She glanced over at Ashley and Ashley nodded ever so slightly, blushing a much brighter pink than her panties. She hadn't expected Mrs. Pakorny to actually take them out of the bag, not in front of the entire grade eight social studies class! Thank her lucky stars she'd planted a clean pair and one of her prettier panties in Ben's bag.

"Ben Hanson," Mrs. Pakorny said sternly and with genuine surprise, and with uncharacteristic coldness. "Of all the boys in this school, you are the last one I would have expected to steal a girl's panties!"

"Steal?" Ben asked, just as surprised as she was.

"Now I know how difficult it is like for boys your age, your bodies full of raging hormones, but biology doesn't condone such perverted behaviour."

"I 3; but 3; I've never see 3;," Ben stammered as he turned still redder. Why did she have to mention his body and hormones? She was a woman. A mature woman besides. She had to be at least forty. Easily tongue-tied at the best of times, the pudgy, painfully-shy thirteen-year-old stared down at his feet.

"And to sneak into the girl's locker room while they are in gym class to get a pair of their panties besides, really Ben where was your mind?" Ashley cringed. Did she really have to state the obvious?

"I 3;"

"Never mind, I don't think I want to know. Shame on you, Ben Hanson! You march down to the office and see Mister Millburne right this instant."

Blushing even redder than Ashley and staring down at the floor as he usually did even when nobody was looking at him, his hair hanging before his eyes and hiding his embarrassment and his hurt, Ben walked to his desk and picked up his Social Studies text and binder and his pen. Dropping the pen on the floor in his nervousness and self-consciousness and drawing even more attention to himself, he put his belongings in the book bag and headed for the door. Everyone in the room had their eyes on him, silently watching him leave in embarrassment and humiliation. He wanted to die. How could Ashley have been so cruel to him? She had to have planted the panties in his book bag. But why? He hadn't done anything to her. And Mrs. Pakorny. How could she think he'd do such a thing? She was his favourite teacher, and next to computers and science, history was his favourite subject. Why did Ashley have to choose her of all teachers to make her false accusation? What must Mrs. Pakorny be thinking of him now? He would never be able to look her in the eyes again! He was spared that problem for the next three school days, Vice Principal Millburne suspending him from school until the following Monday.

Ben's mother was abhorred by the news, and his father reprimanded him, as he was expected to and something he'd rarely had occasion to do. It was because Ben never got in trouble and never broke the rules that the lecture was a mild one, that and because he didn't see the infraction as being anything more than healthy adolescent curiosity. Secretly, he was delighted to see the first evidence of his son coming out of his shell. He wondered if that had anything to do with Ben chumming around with this new boy. It had been almost three months since they had first met him, a day he remembered well as Ben seldom had friends over. They had not seen each other that often, the boy having been over probably a half dozen times, and Ben actually having gone over to his house twice, both this past month, another rarity.

Ben's mother didn't wonder about the connection. Ben's new friend was too outgoing, too unlike Ben. She had suspected he was taking advantage of her son right from the beginning, using him for his knowledge about computers. Ben could not possibly have done such a perverted thing on his own, and keeping him away from Cory was just as much the reason she'd insisted they ground him for the rest of the week and the weekend as it was to punish him. It hurt him that his mother would think he'd do such a thing, and it bothered him even more what she'd think of him if she found out about his porn collection of women exposing their breasts. Although his mother never mentioned her suspicion about Cory, he knew his mother blamed him, and he knew his father was of the same suspicion. That they might forbid him from ever seeing him again was the most disturbing thing of all. Cory was his one and only true friend, the only one he'd had in a long time. Never in his life had Ben thought he'd feel as miserable as he did that Tuesday night.

So why had Ashley done it? There were several reasons. To begin with, she was not the brightest bulb in the box, and any chance she had to make someone else look bad she took it. Ben Hanson was a natural. Meek and shy and a loner, he was a perfect scapegoat, and no threat to anyone. Even Ashley Rowland knew that Molly Vicker's boyfriend Nick Dawson pushed him around because Ben would never retaliate, and of course because he wanted to impress Molly in the hopes of making it with her, and she knew that Molly and Trang teased Ben because he was such a perfect patsy. That was the second reason for Ashley's accusation. Ben Hanson was such a looser, such a nothing, that it was difficult not to bully him simply because he was there.

The third and biggest reason though was because lately her two best friends in the whole world, Molly and Trang, had been totally ignoring her. Molly had begun doing things on her own, and sometimes totally disappearing and not telling anyone where she'd been or what she'd done. Up until a month ago the three of them had been inseparable. Nick had even joked you'd think the three of them were joined at the hip. Actually Molly had been acting weird in other ways these past two and a half months, showing off her breasts, and then her panties, and then even her puss to the skankiest old men in the city, and the biggest geeks and retards in the school. It was so evident veryone knew she was doing it, including Nick. That had to really suck being him, his girlfriend exposing herself to everyone like that while practically ignoring him. But it wasn't just Molly. Trang had begun to do the same just shortly after that. At first it was a real blast, and the three of them joked and laughed about what losers the guys were and how stupid it was that they thought they had a chance with girls like them. Trang had even lead Ben on that she liked him, and then told him in front of the whole class what a loser he was. It wasn't the first time she'd done it, and that he kept falling for it just proved what a looser he was.

They had never encouraged her to expose herself like they did, and she wasn't sure if she would have if they'd had. It was funny, but it was also indecent. She might not be that bright, but she was a decent, proper girl. Anyway, over the last little while they'd stopped hanging around together so much. She missed that. So, she'd figured if she pulled a trick on Ben maybe it would give Molly and Trang a laugh and maybe things would get back to how they used to be. Ashley did not handle change well.

Which was why what happened over the next six days, events that would drive even the most mature and confident girl running to a psychologist, was especially disturbing for her. It began Wednesday, the day after she had planted her panties in Ben's book bag. She got this strange idea at the beginning of Mister Simmons's science class just before lunch to slip into the girls locker room and steal a pair of panties as she'd accused Ben of doing. The more she tried to put the idea out of her mind the more she thought about it until it was more than just an idea, it was an irresistible desire. Telling Mister Simmons she was not feeling well, the only reason he'd let her leave the room, she felt her clitoris suddenly swell. When he asked what specifically was wrong, and she said she felt like throwing up, her clit swelled even more, causing more than a little discomfort. When she added that she had not felt well all morning, her clit had never felt so itchy nor so huge in her life.

As she headed to the girls locker room, she could not stop from reaching between her legs and giving herself a vigorous rub but all it did was make the itch all the stronger. Finding an unlocked locker with a pair of clean panties for after gym, she took them to the girls room and sitting in the farthest stall, she pushed her own panties down and vigorously began to rub her swollen, aching clitoris and her labia as she sniffed the crotch of the stolen nylon panties and licked the front. She could not help herself. It was as if she'd gone totally mad, and the scariest part of it all was that it was immensely enjoyable, the feel of the panties on her face, the faint scent of perfume, the risk of doing it in the girls room where she might be caught. It was not the first time she'd ever played with her pussy, so it was not her first climax, but it was certainly her wildest, and the first she'd ever reached sitting in a stall in the girls bathroom. Returning the panties, she made it back to class just before the bell rang. When Mister Simmons asked if she was feeling better, and she replied she was feeling fine now, which was far from the truth as her conscience wrestled with what she'd just done, she felt her clitoris immediately begin to swell again. At noon as she headed over to the Seven-Eleven with Molly and Trang, they laughed about the incident with Ben the previous day, which made Ashley feel good that she had amused her two best friends, but considering what she'd just done, made her feel guilty also. Asking if she was all right, Molly and Trang were not convinced when she said she was, at the same time tensing and evidently straining as if holding something back, like when the nurse is about to give you a needle or something. She left them early and headed back to the last stall for another vigorous masturbation session, guiltily sniffing and licking her own panties. The smell of her hot, wet pussy on the crotch of her panties was so erotic, and so disgusting at the same time, that she climaxed in record time and she sat there on the toilet gasping and groaning with the hottest orgasm she'd ever had.

Thursday she felt the same urge again, at the beginning of Mrs. Pakorny's social studies class again in the period before lunch. Once again each time she lied about why she had to leave the room she felt her clitoris swell and become itchier, and the itchier it became the greater was her temptation to lie all the more to make her clit even harder. It being the same girls physical education class as before, she went directly to the same locker and to her unbelievable delight, found the same pair of panties hanging on the hook. This time, she revelled in such ecstasy that she didn't notice the time passing and she was still in the last stall madly frigging herself and sucking on the crotch of the panties when the noon bell rang.

Friday all the normally bouncy, blond-haired, blue-eyed airhead could think about was Mister Simmons' period four science class and wonder if she'd have the same urge as the previous two days. Though she'd been totally disgusted with herself after each of the first two times and dreaded the thought of the approaching class, she'd never felt so sexually aroused and had never found masturbating so satisfying as she had that Wednesday and Thursday. When fourth class came and went without the slightest urge, she didn't know whether to be delighted that whatever it was that had possessed her had ceased, or disappointed that she wouldn't feel the same high as she had the previous two days. She even lied to Molly that noon, a little white lie about hoping Ben wouldn't be too angry with her over what she'd done, mentioning it because she did not want her big prank to be forgotten too soon, but also to see what would happen if she lied. To her mixed delight and dismay, her clitoris immediately became firm.

It was then that she got the idea of stealing one of her classmate's panties in her own physical education class at the end of the day so she'd have a pair for the weekend to enjoy, and not just any classmate's, but one in particular. That was so hot she could not help reaching down and clutching her crotch. As she looked up, she saw Cory Wilson standing on the corner smoking with a couple of his friends, his goofy headband perched at a cocky angle on his head. He was staring right at her and smiling, as if he knew how horny she was feeling. It was an eerie feeling, but she figured it had to be mere coincidence, and the possibility he had anything to do with what was happening to her was too complex to consider. Besides, although she was short, she had a nice curvy figure, toned, athletic, and compact. It was not unusual to catch one or another of the boys stealing glances at her. The thought about the panties was a perverted idea, and for that afternoon right up until the end of that last period she told herself a person would have to be sick to do what she'd thought, but despite her disgust and her resolution not to, as they headed to the showers after class, she hung back and slipped the damp, soiled underwear in her backpack.

Ashley was not the only one to be confused by what was happening. Trang had been wondering what was going on now for some time. Her obsession to show off her breasts or her privates had gotten worse with each day to the point that she was irritable and tense until she found someone to expose herself to. It was always a laugh to see them looking at her nakedness with their tongues hanging out and knowing just how badly they wanted her, and a major turn on when she saw the lust in their eyes or when the cruder of them made a vulgar comment about what they'd love to do with her when there was no way in hell that she'd ever let them. Then afterward, after the rush, she felt sick to her stomach and disgusted with herself and resolved she'd never do it again, only to go through it all again the next day.

There were dangers too. Three weeks ago, the week they'd returned to school after the Christmas break, she'd given Goosey Gilles a good look at her butt and her pussy in Computer 8 class, using Molly's trick of dropping her pen and bending over and hiking up her skirt. He'd told her he wanted to see her at the end of the school day, and having already taken her aside after class and informing her what people could see when she bent over the first time, as if she didn't know it, and then when she'd done it a second time, having reprimanded her after class in his usual sarcastic manner despite the evident desire in his eyes, she braced herself for another bigoted lecture and putdown that he was famous for. Unlike most times where she felt dirty and perverted afterwards, with Goosey she felt justified. He treated kids cruelly, and he was a pompous, bigoted asshole, pretending to be so righteous and superior and lusting after her just like everyone else. He hated kids and he deserved to be flashed something that he'd never be able to have.

"You wanted to see me, Mister Gilles?" she asked, all sweet and innocent that Wednesday.

He got up and walked over to the door and closed it. She noticed that he had gained weight since the last time he'd called her aside for her behaviour. He waddled like a goose, one of the reasons for his nickname, and his added weight made his waddle all the more evident and ludicrous. She stifled a laugh. Had she noticed he'd locked the door, she would not have found her situation so funny.

"I've seen a lot of you," Julius replied sarcastically as he returned to her, stepping up to her so they were barely an inch apart. She took a step back. "A lot more than a young girl should be revealing. Don't deny it," he said as she opened her mouth to profess she didn't know what he meant. He stepped up to her again and again she stepped back. "You know what I'm talking about." He had backed her up against the blackboard. Reaching out and putting a hand on her thigh, he began to slip his hand up under her skirt.

"Mister Gilles!" she protested, grabbing for his hand. He had been surprisingly fast and already had the tips of his fingers on the lower edge of her cleft.

"If you send come-on signals, you have to expect a man to come on."

"No! Please, don't!" She tried to squirm around him, but he was too fat, and she, like most Asian girls, was petite. He easily blocked her. He raised her skirt to her waist, and of course with no panties, totally exposed her lower torso. His hand cupped her pussy and he began to rub it with his palm. Her hairs were fine and curly, her labia hot. "A teacher isn't supposed-."

He leaned over and kissed her. It was wet and sloppy and disgusting. "A thirteen-year-old girl isn't supposed to be flaunting herself." He began to unbutton her blouse. Like Molly, she'd stopped wearing a bra almost two months ago. She immediately reached up and tried to stop him, but he only had three buttons to undo. He cupped her breasts and squeezed them. They were not as large as Molly's, but they were firm and compact. She did not have much of a figure actually, but she did have a nice, compact butt, and beautiful gilded skin.

"If you don't stop, I'll tell!" she threatened, trying without success to remove his hands from her breasts.

"And I'll tell how you've been flashing your breasts and what's under your skirt at every male teacher and half the students in the school. What do you think your parents would think of that? And I'll have plenty of others who'll support my claim."

Her parents had immigrated to America from Cambodia just after she'd been born, and held very traditional and old-fashioned views about the place of girls and modesty. They were also very desperate to fit into American society and very fearful of breaking the law.

"I thought so," Julius said smugly as she stopped struggling. "Have you ever had sex before?" She shook her head, her large, almond eyes almost in tears. "Just relax," he said, running his fingertips over her soft cheeks and leaning in and kissing her again.

A virgin! From the way she'd been behaving, that he had not expected, and especially since she was a slant-eyes. Everyone knew how wanton and precocious gooks were. He squeezed and caressed her firm, compact breasts. She was a pretty girl, petite and with long, straight, raven hair like all gooks, and smooth, exquisitely tinted skin, the colour of butterscotch. He groped her young, tender pussy. It was growing hotter, and becoming moist. It didn't take much to get her race aroused. Sitting down on the edge of his desk, he slipped his lips over a nipple of one of her firm little cantaloupes and sucked.

Trang shuddered. Nobody had ever touched her breasts, never mind having sucked on them. Of course she knew boys were turned on by girls' breasts and did that, and she'd fantasized about making love to a boy some day, but what Goosey Gilles was doing was not erotic, and certainly not romantic, and besides, he was no boy. He was old. As he sucked on her breast and her sensitive nipple grew hard, it was not out of arousal but more a result of irritation. And the way he was pawing her labia, it was filthy and frightening and there was nothing she could do about it.

Julius was not getting turned on either. Despite the fact she was a virgin and clearly had been asking for someone to take her, he was feeling absolutely no desire, not even as he conjured up all the erotic thoughts he could about what they were doing and going to do. He'd made the decision to finally take what she'd been offering these past two months as punishment for her behaviour and to teach her a lesson since lectures evidently had not worked, but he'd also made the decision because he genuinely felt she was offering her body and it was an opportunity to prove to himself that he was a man. That was the main reason for his action.

Last evening, for the eighth time since and including the initial accident with Julian, he'd been forced to rim Bob Moser and the two Spudder boys and eat their shit, this time straight out of their assholes while Julian, Anton and François blew them. He knew it was the eighth time, because each and every incident was firmly etched in his mind. As to the number of times he'd stood by helplessly while they'd fucked his boys, or they had fucked him or made him felch his boys, he had lost count. And then there were Lad and Rocky. Sunday while his children were out with friends and Antoinette had taken an afternoon nap as a result of her pregnancy, which now at three and a half months she was clearly showing, he'd enticed the Rottweiler to screw him, the first time the dog had screwed anyone since he'd screwed Anthony that afternoon with Benji, Cory and Anthony.

"Take my penis out and stroke it."

Tears finally overflowed her lower eyelid and began streaming down her cheeks as she fumbled with his zipper. She had even more difficulty extracting his penis out of the openings of his boxers and his trousers. She'd had no idea what a boy's thing would feel like, and had not even thought about it. It was gross. Having no idea what to do, she had to be shown how to stroke it and she did so reluctantly, the fear of Goosey telling her parents about her actions the only thing driving her.

To Julius's frustration, nothing happened. He loved Lad, and just the thought of meeting him in the clearing at Westbank Park gave him an almost instant erection, and despite the fact they had only done it once, even the thought of doing it with Rocky caused him to begin getting stiff. Despite the perversity and stench, he unexplainably loved playing the role of a toilet and felt a definite rush of arousal when he fastened his lips to Bob Moser's anus, not disgust. And after that first night he'd caught Anton fucking François and had fucked his twelve-year-old son, he'd snuck into the boys' bedroom three more times, as recently as last Monday, for a three-way, Anton fucking François and him fucking Anton. What sort of man was he to get a raging erection thinking about being fucked by dogs or eating shit or screwing his twelve-year-old son, but could not get it up with a nubile young girl who was stroking his cock and standing there with her tits and cunt exposed and available for the taking?

"Now suck it," he ordered desperately, his voice harsh with urgency and his feeling of inadequacy.

Trang dropped to her knees in shock and defeat, the tears still flowing, and taking his limp sausage, she slipped her lips over it. She knew girls sucked boys. She'd heard it was a common practice among older teenagers, a safe alternative to engaging in intercourse and risking getting pregnant, or catching AIDS. It was also filthy and perverted and not something she'd ever intended on doing to her boyfriend, whoever and whenever that might be, and certainly not to her most hated teacher. Not knowing there was more to it, she knelt there and sucked on his filthy sausage and fought back the urge to puke.

"Now then, let that be a lesson to you," Julius said sharply as he abruptly drew away. He tucked his limp, wet cock back in his trousers. "Now, be gone with you, and don't let me ever find you exposing yourself to me again."

Trang quickly and gratefully got to her feet and buttoning up her blouse, hurried from the room and headed to the girls room to throw up. What she'd just been forced to do was the most disgusting thing she could imagine, but at least he had not forced her to have intercourse with him. Now that would have been totally nauseating. As she knelt there before the toilet and puked, the thirteen-year-old girl swore she'd never expose herself to anyone again.

Even more frustrated than he'd been half an hour ago, Julius threw the student papers he had to mark in his briefcase and headed for his car unaware the student he'd just assaulted was puking her guts out in the girls room and not caring where she'd gone or how she was feeling. He had his own problems. His lack of arousal had to be because she was just a girl, thirteen, and one of his students besides, and had been crying through it all on top of it. A man can't be expected to get it up when the bitch he plans on fucking is in tears. Besides, she was nothing but a gook, and couldn't even give a proper blow job.

Those were all good reasons, but he knew deep inside that there was a bigger reason. He'd never been turned on by girls, not even as a horny teenage boy. While his high school classmates were drooling over Playboy centerfolds and popping boners thinking of fucking cheerleaders, he was drooling over the sight of naked elementary school age boys in the showers at the pool and popping boners thinking of fucking his younger cousins. He was a closet boylover. That was why he'd decided to teach elementary school. Unable and unwilling to accept that truth, he turned his thoughts to other things, to the marking he had to do that night, to the lessons he had to plan for tomorrow, and to the fact that in less than two hours he'd be at Westside Park and hopefully eating Bob Moser's shit and sucking Lane Spudder's spooge from his twelve-year-old son's butt. His cock stirred excitedly in his trousers with the thought.

Despite what had happened on Wednesday and her vows, the next day Trang was back flashing her boobs and puss, though she did resist the temptation to do so to Goosey. There was not a day that went past that she didn't think about what he'd made her do, especially as she sat there in his class and he acted like nothing had ever happened, which made her hate him all the more. She knew she should, but she had not warned Molly about exposing herself to him. She just could not bring herself to tell her best friend what had happened to her. At first she felt guilty but as the days passed into weeks and the end of January approached, she put it aside.

On Friday as they'd returned to school from the Seven-Eleven at noon, she'd shown her naked crotch to Spaz Spatski, causing him to shriek and wave his arms about like a chimpanzee as he sat there in his wheelchair, and she was certain she'd given him an erection from the way his cargo pants suddenly tented out. Now that was hilarious, as hilarious as Ashley's prank on Ben that they'd all laughed about over lunch, but it was also totally gross. Just the thought of the spaz touching her sent a shiver of revulsion up her spine. So why had it felt so right while she was doing it? That she had no answer to as her skin turned to gooseflesh and she once again was disgusted with herself. Then, as if she didn't have enough to deal with, after showering after gym, she discovered her panties were gone!

Saturday Molly convinced her to go with her and flash the johns and druggies that frequented the Sixteenth Street Strip Mall, which consisted of a pawn shop, a Vietnamese restaurant, a pizza take-out, an adult video and book store, a thrift shop, a liquor outlet, and a corner grocery run by an old Chinese couple. It was on the main drag and all the prostitutes and drug pushers hung out there. She'd been there a few times with Molly, who for some strange reason really seemed to like the place, but she found it too scarey even though it was in the daytime and a handsome but sleazy-looking young black man whom she'd seen hanging around the Seven-Eleven near Lincoln Junior High and whom Molly seemed to know had warned the whores and pushers not to hassle them. Even though it was early, just before four, business was already busy, and it wasn't inside the stores.

A boy who looked about her age, maybe even a year younger, was lounging in front of the adult video shop. His dark brown hair was spiked and he was wearing black lipstick and eyeliner, earrings made of nails, rings in his lip and right eyebrow, a black tank top that said "BEAT ME" on the back and that was ripped to reveal he had a nipple ring, and a studded dog collar with a chain that fastened to one of the loops on his black jeans, which had a big rip along the thigh and were tattered about the crotch, not enough to see anything but enough to tell that like she and Molly he was not wearing underwear. Trang wondered what sort of parents he had to let him dress like that and hang out at a place like the Sixteenth Street Mall. At first she thought he was an addict, but as she watched a car drove up and he sauntered over, very seductively, and after a brief conversation he got in and the car took off. He was selling himself! That was totally gross. She had little cause to judge as a grubby, unshaven man stepped out of the pawn shop and she and Molly thrust their breasts out, the top three buttons of their blouses undone, but at least he was of the opposite sex, and they weren't planning on doing anything with him.

Anton had noticed the two thirteen-year-old girls arrive and take up their position in front of the pawn shop. He'd seen the white girl with the big brown doe-like eyes and pouting mouth there before. She had a nice pair of tits, and an even nicer ass that two months ago would have caused him to pop a boner, but he was no longer turned on by girls. It was evident from their open blouses and the way they were standing there awkwardly and looking around why they were there, the same reason he was. All three of them were looking for cock. He had to smile at how obvious the two girls were. He had been too at first, until his sister's lover, Billy, had shown him how to attract attention just by what he wore and how he stood. It had been Billy who had given him the nail earrings for Christmas, and Billy's friend Juan who had pierced his lip and eyebrow and given him the rings as a present, and for giving him a blow job. Juan had said he did a better job than his sister, and he was pretty sure the dude wasn't joking. Now that was a real blast! He'd considered going over and giving them some advice. After all, the men they were fishing for were not the ones that would be interested in him. However, the minute the car pulled up and the driver gave him "that look" he totally forgot about them.

The guy was wearing a suit and tie with a blue shirt and had a trim, narrow moustache. His hair was jet black, obviously dyed considering he had to be pushing fifty, and receding along the temples like his dad's. He knew his dad was particularly concerned about that, and he wondered if the man was too. He probably was considering he dyed his hair. Anton wondered if he was married, and if he had kids, maybe a son around his age. He'd found a lot of the men who picked him up were married with families. He liked those that were. Even though they'd picked him up because they wanted someone to use, and usually to dominate, they tended to be less mean than single men, and they often gave him something extra for his time. This guy was not bad looking either, which was a bonus, though what he was primarily interested in was what was in his pants, not his looks.

The man didn't disappoint him there either. As soon as they'd gotten in the motel room, Anton's usual, Room 137 at the nearby Economy Inn, the man had made him get on his hands and knees and pull down his fly with his teeth, and sniff his crotch through his open fly like a dog and mouth his bulge. Anton had popped a boner immediately, which the man had noticed and took great delight in having caused, and he'd made Anton remove his jeans and T-shirt and he'd observed how perfect his smooth pubes and little boner were before making Anton remove his trousers and underwear. He'd made him sniff his crotch and his asshole like he was a dog, and then lick them. He didn't mind. It was all part of being a bottom boy.

As the man lay there on his back on the bed, he kept repeating over and over what an awesome job he was doing and how he'd never had anyone so young do him so well. That was good and Anton smiled. He wanted to please the man, and besides, the guy was more likely to overpay. Being paid at all was of secondary importance to him, but there was a leather harness and ball restraint in a picture Cory had shown him last time he was over to fuck his mother that Cory said he'd be able to get for him.

The man had a large, hairy ball sack. Anton ran his tongue over it and slipped the man's lower ball in his mouth and sucked on it. He mouthed the guy's limp but swelling cock and slipped his lips over it and sucked on it. He held it up by the base and ran his tongue up the shaft and over the knob. The guy was clean, which was an added bonus. They weren't always. He licked slowly, giving the man time to enjoy the stimulation and giving himself time to delight in the taste of the man's cock and in the process of turning him on. God he loved cock!

When neither could wait any longer, he slipped the condom the man had bought from the machine in the motel office over the man's cock. The customers he picked up usually used one, more out of concern for their health than his. He wished they didn't, preferring the feel of raw cock no matter how thin the condom was, and the sensation of having a man spurt his semen deep up his rectum, but he understood their concern. Laying on his back, he raised his buttocks and presented his anus to the man who by then was just as eager to plunge his cock up his rectum as he was to have it done. The man could not believe his good fortune as the doe-eyed boy looked up at him with those vacant, brown eyes. From the size of his stiff dick and his balls the kid had to be on the cusp of adolescence. The eyeliner, the nipple rings, the dog collar and other piercing, the kid was a dream come true. Best of all, this kid wasn't doing it to support a drug habit or a pimp lover or anything. He was doing it because he loved cock and he loved being a bottom. He could tell.

The man was right of course. No matter how often it happened, Anton found it awesome feeling a man penetrating him, feeling his cock head stretching open his anus and his hard, thick cock pushing up into his rectum. He pushed out with his abdominal muscles as the man pushed forward, the two of them grunting and inhaling deeply with the effort, unabashedly making the music of sex. Slowly the man's bulb stretched open his sphincter and finally it popped inside. Anton inhaled deeply as the man sank his thick, sheathed organ up his asshole, and he closed his eyes with genuine pleasure as the man began to fuck him. It was fucking awesome being a boy.

At that moment a police car was pulling into the Sixteenth Street Strip Mall. "Lord in Heaven, I can't believe it," Eric O'Malley, the senior officer, observed. "I swear they are getting younger and younger every week." His partner, Mike Polanski, with fifteen years on the force himself, two years less than his partner, just shook his head. Nothing surprised him anymore, not even the sight of two thirteen-year-old hookers plying their trade in broad daylight at ten after four in the afternoon. On the border between the middle and lower class districts, it was a tough neighbourhood, the reason the two veteran officers had been assigned the route even during the daytime. What was really heartbreaking about the scene before them was knowing that because of their age the courts wouldn't do anything more than give them a scolding and turn them over to their parents, who were evidently incompetent or their girls wouldn't be selling their bodies on the street on a late Saturday afternoon, and maybe have them do a few hours of community service. It wasn't worth the effort and the paperwork to take them in. "Should we arrest them?" Eric was evidently thinking the same as he was.

"We could wait until their pimp shows up and arrest him." That was barely any better. Judges didn't much like men who lived off the avails of thirteen-year-old hookers, but even so, he'd post bail and be back out on the street in no time, and meanwhile someone else would just take his place.

"Or wait until a john picks them up and arrest the three of them." That was the real deterrent, arresting the men who paid to have sex, especially with children. Usually middle or upper class, businessmen, often married, judges liked them even less, and their arrest got a lot more publicity than the arrest of the teenage hookers or their pimps. It didn't stop the crime, but it slowed it down for a while, and did scare away those who might be tempted for a few minutes of bliss, though how having sex with little girls clearly barely into their teens was bliss neither man could understand. Real men wanted real women, and above all else, Eric O'Malley and Mike Polanski were real men.

"That'd be best, not that even that does much good."

"You're right." The men watched as one of the girls, the white one with the doe eyes and pouting mouth, bent over as a man came out of the liquor store. Even at their distance they could tell she wasn't wearing any panties. "What she needs is a damn good spanking and to be sent to her room without supper, and I don't mean to watch her personal TV or listen to that obscene rap music kids are into today."

"Fat chance of her father doing that."

"Maybe we should teach the girls a lesson ourselves."

"Yeah, maybe we should just do that."

As the police car pulled up in front of them and the officers got out, Molly's heart skipped a beat. The cops didn't usually show up at this time of day, which was why she'd picked it. Even though she and Trang hadn't done anything wrong, she knew from past experience the cops could make it rough on them. She frowned and braced herself. Trang's heart sank. She knew what she and Molly were doing was wrong but she'd never had to deal with the police before. If she showed up at home in a police car, her parents would be totally devastated. Her father's silence and the look of shame in her mother's eyes would be worse punishment than any punishment other parents might inflict on their daughters. Like Molly, she tried to look innocent.

"How old are you girls?" Eric asked.

"Thirteen," replied Molly. "Is there something wrong officer?" She tried to hide her nervousness. These were not the same two officers that had warned her previous times.

"Thirteen and turning tricks!" snorted Mike in surprise and disgust. The girls looked at him blankly. "You don't even know what the phrase means," he observed in bewilderment and even greater disgust. They hadn't heard the phrase before, but they had a good idea what it meant, and there was no question how the cop felt about them from the tone of his voice and the look on his face, like he'd just stepped in dog doo. They both felt about as small and just as dirty as they looked up at the two policemen with shame and apprehension.

"Do you know what the phrase 'you're under arrest' means?"

"What for?" Molly asked, having had this conversation with another pair of police already. Although she tried not to look afraid, her heart was pounding fearfully.

"Do you know the word solicitation?" The girls shook their heads in the negative, which was the truth though Molly had a good idea what it meant. "How about prostitution?"

"We weren't-."

"Com'on, we saw the two of you advertising your charms."

"But 3; we were just having some fun," Molly objected, using the same defence she'd successfully used before.

"You think exposing yourselves is having fun?"

It sounded perverted when you said it like that. And illegal. "But that was all we were doing."

"That was all?"

"I mean, we weren't, well, doing what you said we were doing, prostituting."

"That's enough of the lies girls. Get in the car."

"But-."

"Now!" Eric said, angrily grabbing Molly by the arm and half carrying her over to the vehicle. Having girls that age selling their bodies was bad enough, but to lie to police and to show no remorse for their actions was unthinkable. His father would have walloped his backside good for lying to a policeman, and he would have been penitent. Kids today had no discipline, and no morals.

Actually, the two girls were devastated as the vehicle pulled out of the strip mall. Molly was also surprised. In the past she'd been given a lecture and a warning about the dangers of doing what she was doing, much like Gilles had given Trang the first time he'd taken her aside, and which the two of them had a good laugh over, and that was all. Under arrest! What for? She hadn't offered to have sex for money. All she'd done was 3; . Of course exposing yourself was illegal. Funny, she'd never thought of it that way before. She'd always thought of people who did that as being dirty old men who flashed little girls. Under arrest! Wait until her parents found out! Wait until her parents found out what she'd been doing. A new and stronger wave of shame and remorse washed over her and her heart sank. Trang's heart had sunk long ago. She just stared down at the floor of the car, too shocked to even have a full thought.

To their surprise and bewilderment, the police pulled into the parking lot of the Economy Inn a few minutes later. Anton and his customer were heading to his car. Seeing the police, the man whispered to the preteen to act as if they did not know each other and to head out of the parking lot and that he'd pick him up down the street.

"Now then," explained Eric as they pulled up in front of the office, straining to control his voice and his temper over what he perceived to be the girls' lack of shame and remorse, "today is your lucky day. We're going to give you girls a chance. We can take you down to the precinct and arrest you for exhibitionism and call your parents, or we can give you a little lesson on what your life is going to be like if you keep exposing yourself to men on the street." He wasn't convinced the girls weren't prostituting themselves, but he knew he had no evidence. Even if he did, they'd still only get finger wagging from the judge and their parents and a few hours of community service anyway. The lesson he had in mind would be far more effective. "Which will it be?"

Molly glanced over at Trang. She looked terrible, like she was totally spaced out. There really wasn't any choice. Neither knew what the policeman meant by giving them a little lesson, but anything was preferable to arrest and their parents finding out. Eric knew that would be their choice, and was glad they'd made it. It was time those in the front line did something to restore decency in the streets.

Thankful his last customer had pulled out of the parking lot, the desk clerk braced himself for the expected hassle as he saw the policeman step out of the car and head to the office. No matter what crime happened in the neighbourhood or whom the cops were looking for, they inevitably ended up checking out the Economy Inn. What he did not expect was the request for a room. "For Riverside's finest, nothing but the finest," he said with a smile. "Room 137. And no charge of course." As he watched the officer head out the door, he hoped the previous occupants hadn't left a wet spot on the sheets.

Eric glanced about the room critically. It was a simple room, a bed, a small night table with a lamp, two stiff-backed wooden chairs, a small, round table with wobbly legs, and a closet-sized bathroom. There were no phone and no television, but people who rented a room at the Economy Inn weren't there long enough to need a phone and usually brought their own entertainment. At least it had a smoke detector and a water sprinkler though he doubted if either worked, and it was clean enough though it smelled faintly of semen. The top sheet on the bed was wrinkled and it felt warm, as if someone had been lying on it recently.

"Did you see the kid with the piercing as we pulled up?" Mike asked.

"Yeah. And his john."

"Now that's really sick, a man and a young boy like that. Makes a decent man want to puke."

"Tell me! If I had my way I'd round up every pedo and faggot in the country and castrate the works and then hang the bunch of them up by their peckers and whip the shit out of them. And when I was done with them I'd run them out of the country along with every nigger, spic and gook in the land," he observed, looking over at Trang. "If I was running this country, I'd clean it up good."

"You and me both," agreed Mike. The two men had had plenty of conversations on how to fix the nation as they'd cruised the streets. "Run all the pervs out of the country and return it to the white race and the righteous as our forefathers intended."

"But enough politics, for now let's get on with teaching these two kiddie hookers a lesson," Eric replied. "Since you like showing off your stuff, strip for us." The two girls glanced at each other. "Bitches!" he snapped, "you agreed to this, now get on with it!"

They had no idea exactly what they'd agreed to, but they knew from his tone it would be useless to argue. They slowly began to unbutton the remaining buttons on their blouses. They knew they didn't have a choice, and no matter what they were going to be made to do, it would still be better than their parents finding out what they had been doing. Besides, as they slipped their blouses off their shoulders and saw the smoldering lust in the eyes of the two men, they knew they'd made the right decision. Exposing themselves to the two policemen was as exciting and arousing as flashing their breasts and naked crotches at total strangers. Actually, it was better. Unlike most of the dregs they'd exposed themselves to, the two cops were strong and muscular, and not that bad looking for older men. With his red hair, green eyes, and square chin, Eric had to have been handsome as a teenager, as had to have been Mike with his white-blond hair and blue eyes. Both had been athletes in their youth and were now over two hundred pounds [90kg] and all muscle. Eric had won several weight lifting trophies locally and regionally, and Mike was an accomplished triathlete with trophies of his own. Unlike those they'd been exposing themselves to, these were real men. That was evident from the looks of desire in the eyes of the two men as the girls pushed down their skirts and stepped out of them and stood there buck naked in the middle of the room in front of them. They might be cops, but they were men first.

If the two girls had any doubt about that, there was no question as the two policemen dropped their pants and boxers. Having seen men's privates before, it was no new experience for Molly, but even so she glanced away with embarrassment. She was only thirteen after all. As for Trang, she stared fixedly at the floor unable to believe this was really happening. First Goosey Gilles, and now two policemen! Removing his boots and stepping out of his boxers and trousers, Eric sat down on one of the stiff-backed wooden chairs and motioned for Molly to come over to him. Thinking he was expecting her to blow him as Elijah sometimes had her do, she was about to drop to her knees when he suddenly grabbed her and threw her across his lap. "Now this is what I would do if I caught my daughter doing what you were doing," he said, smacking her bare backside. She jerked and yelped with the sudden and unexpected pain.

Mike quickly pulled off his boots and stepped out of his boxers and trousers too, and pulling out the other chair and sitting on it, he motioned for Trang to assume the same position as Molly. She stepped forward hesitantly, eyes still shamefully on the floor. Her father had never laid a hand on her. That was not their way. Of course standing naked before a man naked from his waist down was not their way either. Growing impatient, Mike threw her across his lap as Eric had done Molly. The man's thighs were hairy and they tickled her flat stomach and her budding breasts. He raised his hand and slapped her naked backside hard. She bit her lower lip to stop from crying out as her backside stung with the first slap. The second was even worse, and the third worse still.

The two men did not hold back as they spanked the two girls, venting their anger with a corrupt world on the two teenagers. Each slap was as much a punishment for Molly and Trang as it was punishment for every teenage hooker they'd ever picked up. The more the girls squirmed the harder they smacked, and the harder they smacked the more the girls squirmed and the angrier the two men got. By the time they were done their palms were stinging as if they had been slapping nettle, and the backsides of the two girls were bright red and throbbing with pain as if they had been skinned. To the surprise of the two men, Eric and Mike discovered they had become erect. Taking the two condoms he'd purchased from the machine in the motel lobby out of his shirt pocket and tossing one to Mike, Eric handed the other to Molly and told her to put it on him. Neither girl having ever used one before and embarrassed being forced to not just look at but to handle the stiff cocks of the two men, they awkwardly and self-consciously unrolled the two safes while the two men commented on the ignorance of teenage hookers and members of the coloured races.

"Now, get over on that bed and spread your legs bitch," Eric ordered. "If you haven't been selling your body, which I doubt very much that you haven't, then it's high time you found out just what's going to happen to you if you keep exposing yourself to men." Dejectedly and reluctantly walking over to the bed, Molly grimaced with pain as her tenderized backside touched the rough sheet. Trang's legs almost gave out as she walked over to join Molly. The two men couldn't possibly be going to do what she was thinking. They were policemen.

Crawling onto the bed and roughly spreading apart her legs further, Eric knelt between them, and leaning forward, he began rubbing the tip of his stiff cock against the lips of her pussy. Molly tensed in anticipation of what he was going to do next. Mike again copied his senior partner. Despite the rough treatment, or perhaps because of it, it was not long before both girls were dripping with cunt juice and had coated the sheathed dickheads of the two policemen. As Eric pressed forward, Molly instinctively pushed out. His cock was about as thick as Eli's, and like Eric, Eli also had his own pleasure foremost in mind, not hers.

"Christ girl, you are tight," observed Mike as he struggled to get his cock, which was as long and as thick as Eric's, in Trang's young cunt.

"Please, please don't," she pleaded. "I've never done this."

"You telling me you're a virgin?"

"Yes."

"Fuck!"

"You did get the lucky draw," observed Eric. "Now if I'd have been a betting man, I'd have bet the gook here was the experienced one." He looked down at Molly. "You're no virgin, are you girl," he said, making a statement, not a question. She shook her head. "Thought not, slut."

"Well, after today, you're not going to be either," Mike observed as he suddenly lunged forward. Trang cried out with the sharp pain as his stiff cock broke through her maidenhead and plunged up her cunt. These young teenage whores had to be taught a lesson, and he knew from his years on the beat that the only language they understood was to be slapped around. The mollycoddling and pampering by their parents and the courts did fuck all to keep them off the street. Rape them a few times and then see how eager they were to peddle their asses.

Eric of course felt the same way. He'd seen how these whores were treated by their pimps and yet always returned to them the moment they were let out of jail. They liked pain. Well, he'd endured a lot of pain himself, in his stint as a soldier in Afghanistan, and as a cop on the beat. If it was pain they wanted, he was the man who could give it to them. As he thrust his hips to and fro, driving his hard, aching cock in and out of the teenage bitch under him, he was fucking every whore he'd ever arrested and the courts let back out on the street. Let her find out what it was like to have real sex from a real man and then see how eager she'd be back out on the street with the faggots and addicts and fat johns.

Molly inhaled deeply and her eyes teared with the pain of his brutal attack and the humiliation of being raped, and the embarrassment of being raped beside her best friend who was suffering the same indignity. She'd been handled roughly by Eli and treated like dirt by him, but that was nothing compared to what she was going through at that moment. Unlike with Eli, this had nothing to do with sex or pleasure on anybody's part, his or hers. It was power and control. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, knowing from past experience that at least the indignity and pain would not last long.

It was a lot worse for Trang. Like all early teen girls she'd fantasized about falling in love and giving herself to her boyfriend as an expression of her love for him. That would never happen now. The brute of a cop had taken her virginity and destroyed that dream. That hurt more than the pain of having her legs spread apart as if she was on some medieval rack, and the pain throbbing through her stretched and abused and no longer virgin pussy. Nothing could be worse. She was being forced to have intercourse with a total stranger, in a strange hotel room beside her best friend, who was suffering the same indignities as she was. As they lay there side by side on the bed, legs spread and raised while the two cops brutally raped them, Molly and Trang wondered how they'd ended up like this.

Ashley was wondering the same thing at that very moment as she lay in her bed, naked from the waist down and her legs spread also. She had purposefully lied to her mother several times that afternoon, little white lies, about not feeling well, about how boys were always staring at her lewdly, one boy in particular who was a real looser, each little lie causing her clit to double in size and itchiness. Then she'd gone to her room, saying she had a lot of homework to do, and pushing down her jeans and her panties, she began to play with herself while sucking on the crotch of Trang's soiled panties. The sharp pangs of pleasure as she touched her swollen, aching clit were rivalled by the pleasure of the unique scent of Trang's Asian sweat and sweet pussy.

In period six on Monday, to Ben's mortification, he had to apologize to Ashley for stealing her panties in front of the entire social studies class, and even Mrs Pakorny could not stop the snickering of the boys and the giggling of the girls. Had he not been suspended for three days, he'd have been a prime suspect for the other missing underwear Thursday and Friday. As it was, he was accused of having started a trend in the school. After years of having been totally ignored by his classmates and in his mediocrity even his teachers, his new notoriety was pleasant in a sense, and made up for having been falsely accused.

"You got any plans for after school?" asked Cory as they headed out of the building at the end of the day.

"Me?" Ben asked. "I mean, no, I don't. Nothing."

"You wanna come over to my place? I got some great new vids I think you'll really like."

"I'd have to ask." Knowing how his parents felt about Cory, that could be a problem, but he wanted to be friends with Cory bad enough he was sure he'd find a way.

"Kay." Cory smiled. He'd start with the one Billy had taken of Molly and Trang flashing themselves at the Sixteenth Street mall a couple weeks ago, and then show him the one of Ashley taken by the hidden washroom cam last Friday while he was suspended, and maybe conclude with one of Billy's gay videos Billy had downloaded from the Internet and see what he thought about guy-guy messing around.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Slipping the note out of his pocket, Anton slowly unfolded it and read it for the tenth time. "If you want to have some real fun, meet me in the can at 11:50." It was unsigned. He'd found it wedged inside his locker when he'd arrived at school that Monday morning. He glanced around at his classmates furtively, trying not to be noticed. Nobody was paying the slightest attention to him. It had to be someone from another class, maybe even another grade. But who? It could be almost anyone. As for what they meant by 'real fun,' he had a pretty good idea. He hadn't actually been that secretive when he'd been checking the guys out in the can. For the hundredth time that morning he weighed the pros and cons of responding. It could be a joke, and he'd be the butt of it. Guys loved to tease other guys, and just because they were attending a private school didn't make any difference despite all the crap to their parents about their code of conduct. It could be a set up. Guys who did stuff with guys weren't exactly well liked, especially by junior high boys, and especially by junior high boys at the Royal Glencoe Academy for Boys. It could have been someone who had been offended he'd checked him out at the urinal, or him and a group of his friends, or just someone who didn't like boys who liked boys and heard about him. He could get hurt. Or, it could be for real. Surely he was not the only student at rgab who liked boys. Maybe it was a boy who saw him checking him out and wanted to go further. It could be the beginning of a real friendship. He slowly raised his hand.

Nobody was allowed to leave the room ten minutes before the end of a class, especially ten minutes before noon, and old Arnold Penhold, his mathematics teacher, enforced the rules rigidly. He'd probably been on the very first staff of the school he'd been teaching there for so long, and probably helped come up with the rules himself. Stern with short white hair, bushy eyebrows and steely, grey eyes that looked at you but didn't seem to see you, rigid and unbending as a steel post and just as thin as one, and boring as hell, his chances of leaving the room were zero. Whoever had asked him to leave at that time couldn't have known whose class he'd be in.

He was right. He was refused instantly, the request barely out of his mouth, despite the fact it was not something he'd ever requested before and he was a model student, and excellent at mathematics. It wasn't until in desperation he'd said he thought he was going to throw up, and to be perfectly honest, he was so filled with anxiety he probably could have. He still didn't think he'd be allowed, despite what was a perfectly good reason, but to his surprise he was allowed to leave. His heart pounding furiously, he hurried down the hall, being sure not to run as that was also against the rules and he did not have the time to stop and be reprimanded. He paused as he stepped up to the door to the boys washroom, his heart now so high in his chest you'd have seen it if you looked in his mouth, and for a second almost chickened out, but having gone that far, he swallowed hard and took a chance. This could be good. As he stepped into the washroom, he could not believe his good fortune. Standing there at the last urinal was Alistair Simms, one of the most gorgeous grade seven boys in the school.

"So, you got my note."

"Yeah," Anton croaked. His mouth was dry. He could not believe this.

"So, you wanna suck it?" Alistair asked, jerking a thumb at his crotch as he looked at him with those beautiful hazel eyes, the same colour as his curly, thick hair that he wore combed over his forehead in a bang and down over his ears to his earlobes. It had sort of a golden sheen to it, natural, not highlights, just as his eyes had little gold flecks.

Alistair still had his cock in his pants but Anton had checked him out several times this past month. His cock was beautiful too, three inches [7½cm], the same length soft as his was hard, and almost milk white with the longest foreskin he'd ever seen that Alistair pulled back just far enough to expose his peehole when he took a leak. He bet he had a gorgeous knob. "Sure."

Alistair pulled down the fly of his tan shorts and slipped his fingers inside. Mesmerized by the soft, pink tube of flesh as it was pulled out of his fly, Anton felt his heart begin to race again but this time for a very different reason. Alistair looked up at him. "It's all yours," he said. The smugness and superiority in his voice were reflected in his eyes.

Anton had forgotten the fourth possibility, guys who despised guys like him but used them for their sexual pleasure all the same. He knew from Alistair's tone he should refuse, say he was joking, something, but the thought of sucking that delicious, pink wiener was just too pleasant. "Let's go in one of the stalls."

"Told ya he was a faggot. You owe me a twenty." Anton's heart sank. He knew that voice. Stepping down off the toilet where he'd been crouching, Jason stepped out of the last stall. The door to all the stalls had been open and Anton had assumed they'd been empty.

"He hasn't sucked it yet."

"He will. Anton loves sucking cock. And getting it shoved up his ass, don't you Anton?"

Jason knew very well that he did. Jason knew more about him than anyone else alive, even more than his own parents and his own brothers. They'd been best buddies once, going back to even before they started school together. Jason's parents and his parents were close friends and they used to do everything together. Then just after Jason had accompanied him to Cory Wilson's birthday party for Dominic Jason had stopped coming over to see him. They'd both done sex stuff at the party, but he knew Jason had not done so willingly, and had wrestled with his feelings ever since even though Jason had never mentioned the party or anything since then, and he'd been too afraid to bring it up.

"Well I ain't shoving my cock up no stinkin' shitty ass," Alistair observed.

"So, go on, get on your knees and suck him," Jason said roughly, giving his former best buddy a shove. "That's what you came hoping to do."

Anton had, and both boys knew it. Why else would anyone respond to such a note? And he'd said right there in front of them he wanted to suck it. "Not here," he said meekly. "Please. The bells gonna go any minute."

"Yeah, here, right here," Jason said. "Screw the bell. Everyone in the school knows you're a fucking fag."

The school bell rang for the noon break.

"Please. Not now. Everyone will be coming in to use the washroom."

"So big deal. Bet you half of them will stay to get a blow job too," Jason sneered, "and bet you'd love it."

How could Jason act so cruel? They'd been the best of friends. It wasn't as if he wanted to do the things that he'd done at Cory's, or that he'd wanted to get Jason involved. It had been Cory who had invited him, and Jason who had accepted. He had nothing to do with it. The door to the washroom opened.

"So, the fag showed up like you said he would." It was Dennis Freeman, Jason's cousin. Dennis was a year older and in Grade 8.

"Told yas he was a flamin' faggot like his father and big brother," observed Rudy Rabb from behind Dennis as he glanced back at the boys pushing in behind them. He'd heard his older brother talking to Dennis's brother on the phone last Wednesday about what they'd done over at the Economy Inn to Goosey Gilles and his three sons and how they had to win the game against San Jose High that Saturday, which they'd done.

"So let's get on with the fag gang bang," said Dennis. "We only got an hour for lunch. I get him first."

"Hey, no way. I do," objected Alistair.

"Why you?"

"I was the bait."

"Okay, I get him second."

"Why you?" asked Rudy.

"Why not?"

"Because I should get him second. I'm the one who told you about my brother's and your brother's conversation."

"So?"

"Why don't you have a contest?" suggested Jason.

"Like what?"

One thing Jason had was a good imagination. That, and a cruel streak, and the fact he could think fast on his feet. "Stand over there, against the wall," he ordered Anton, giving him a shove, and Anton numbly obeyed. This was his worst nightmare. "Now open your mouth." He did. It didn't really matter what Jason had in mind. "Okay, now any who wants to get blown by the faggot line up behind each other here," he said, scuffing a line on the bathroom tile with the sole of his shoe ten feet [3m] away. "Whoever gets the most gobs of spit in his mouth from here, goes first, who gets the second most goes third, and so on."

"Sounds fair to me," said Eddie Fairchild as he pushed through the group of boys. Eddie was known by all his classmates in grade seven for three things: his huge brain, his huge cock, and his spitting accuracy. Alistair and Dennis were about to object, but time was pushing on.

And so they lined up, four abreast and began to spit. Thick, juicy gobs as only junior high boys can hack up flew through the air, striking Anton's forehead to ooze down and hang in a pendant from his eyebrow, striking his nose and oozing down the length to hang from the tip, like a booger someone observed to the laugher of the others, landing in his hair and his ears, splattering against his school tie, his burgundy jacket, his tan shorts, and even his exposed knees, and of course, a fair number in his mouth, Eddie not being the only marksmen. In all, sixteen managed to hit him somewhere in their first round. By the end of the second round they were clearly divided into four groups, from smallest group to largest, those who could strike him in the face, those who managed to fling a gob above the waist, those who hit him below, and those who couldn't get that far the second round.

"Hey, wait a minute guys," Dennis interrupted. Stepping up to Anton, he groped his slimy crotch, careful to avoid the goobers of spit that had struck him there. "I thought so. Look at the faggot's pussy! He's getting a boner!"

"What a wimp!"

"Getting spit on is turning him on."

"That's sick."

"That's a faggot for you."

"Eww, gross!"

"Strip." Anton looked up at Eddie shamefully. "Com'on, we wanna see you get a boner," he said. "Besides, you don't wanna get your school clothes all soaked with spit."

It was a bit too late for that, but in the hope his clothes would dry before classes resumed, Anton stripped, revealing that under his clothes he was wearing his dog collar and nipple rings, and his cock ring. The spit flew with renewed energy, striking his nipples and oozing down his chest, oozing down his flat belly, and a few goobers, some intentional, striking his rapidly swelling cock and his balls, causing him to grow all the faster. By the end of the fourth round he was drenched with thick, slimy goobers and the suckoff order had been established. Eddie, to nobody's surprise, had ended up with four straight goobers in Anton's mouth, followed by Mason, a grade niner who had three direct hits and the fourth splatting up Anton's nostrils and oozing back out to ooze over his upper lips and into his gaping mouth, a strike that brought cheers and more than a few gags of disgust from his admirers.

And so the sucking began, Eddie pulling out his stiff, six-inch [15cm] cock, which for a twelve-year-old grade seven student was a monster everyone envied, and stepping forward to claim his prize. That the fag target had not been the only one to have boned up in the process nobody seemed to notice, and at least nobody mentioned. Half of them in the crowded washroom were in the same condition. Anton had seen Eddie's stiff before, the boy having popped a boner more than once in the locker room and in the showers, aware that he had a prize to be envied, and of course claiming his condition was the result of thinking about his girlfriend who attended Gladys Harper Private School for Girls, or the result of having been thinking about how he'd "done" her on the weekend, claims none of the boys questioned, and all of them believed. Eddie was an exceptional athlete and good looking, two traits that girls looked for in boys.

Knowing there was not a thing that he could do about the situation, Anton knelt there before the crowd of boys and slipped his mouth over Eddie's knob. He began to suck as he slowly descended, easing his lips down the slender preteen shaft, making the best of a bad situation. If he had to suck cock in front of his friends and classmates, he might as well enjoy it. Jason was quick to point out how eager Anton was, and how there could be no doubt that he was a fag from the way he was able to go down on Eddie's monster. Of course what the boys did not know was that Eddie's cock was not the longest that Anton had ever sucked, and far from the thickest. Nor did they know the extensive experience he had or just how deeply he desired cock. Eddie was about to get a quality blow job that many men will never get in their entire lives.

The twelve-year-old stud muffin, who had only begun seriously jerking off that summer, and especially the last two months since he'd begun to go out with Sarah Thompson, the daughter of one of the city's most prominent and influential lawyers, which was about a month before he'd squirted for the first time. He could not believe how hard his cock felt, nor how powerfully it was throbbing, way more than when he used his hand. Nor could he believe how badly he wanted to squirt, even more badly than when he snuggled up to Sarah on the sofa when they watched videos together. He squirmed and tensed as Anton ran the tip of his tongue over his knob and along the sensitive rim, and he almost collapsed in sweet agony when Anton flicked the tip of his tongue at his peehole. Anton was good, and in his lust for cock and his determination to enjoy the ordeal he was being put through, he used every technique and trick that Bob Moser and Billy Dean had taught him, and several that he'd found on the Internet that even Bob and Billy did not know about.

His efforts were rewarded several minutes later as Eddie tensed even more than he'd been doing and announced that he was going to squirt, not in warning but in awed delight. His thin, watery preteen load raced up the core of his cock and spurted out the opening with the force that only a preteen can manage, striking the roof of Anton's mouth and squirting directly down his throat. Still unaccustomed to all the effects of ejaculation, Eddie grasped Anton's head for support as his thighs went weak and his loins went numb. It was his most powerful and most delightful ejaculation yet. His blood-engorged cock throbbed and the rim and peehole burned with an intensity that caused him to close his eyes and openly moan with ecstasy. When he finally stepped back, his cock still stiff and now glistening with spittle and with a final thin pendant of cum hanging from the tip, his chest was heaving and he had an ecstatic, dazed look in his eyes.

Mason immediately stepped up to claim his reward for coming in second place. Although two years older than Eddie, the fourteen-year-old's cock was almost an inch shorter, still large in the eyes of the preteen and early teen crowd of boys. Also unlike Eddie, he'd been whacking off to pictures of his father's Playboy and girly magazines for the past two years, and he'd been coming regularly several times a day ever since that summer. He was uncertain if he'd like being sucked off by a boy, but after a minute having his stiff cock serviced by Anton he knew that he'd be seeking out the weird twelve-year-old again. His cock throbbed and his loins ached to get off a load with a force far greater than he'd ever felt looking at girly magazines or fantasizing about his female classmates or the teen singer Hilary Duff. In fact the last minute was spent in total disbelief that getting sucked off by a guy could possibly be so hot, and he was so surprised that by the time he realized he was about to shoot his stuff he didn't have enough time or presence of mind to warn Anton. With his experience, Anton had a good idea from the way a guy's cock stiffened and the telltale throb of the big vein under his dick when that moment was going to arrive. When Mason came, he delightfully swallowed his thick, creamy load.

The next boy was small, more the height and weight of a ten-year-old, and Anton had no idea who he was. Names didn't matter. He had a dick and it was stiff. It was about the same size as Anton's was, and his pubes, unlike Anton, were perfectly smooth. It was a marked difference after sucking off Eddie and Mason. It also took him a minute longer than they to reach his orgasm, and when he did, he could not cum, though from the way his eyes glazed over and the way he wobbled away when they were done, he clearly had enjoyed it as much as Eddie and Mason had.

They were all randy and it didn't take any one of them any more than a couple minutes to get off, and the longer they had to wait and watch, the faster they came. Despite being the one who had dared put the plan Eddie had come up with into action and being the one responsible for alluring Anton to the boys room, Alistair didn't get any special consideration and had to wait his turn, two-thirds down the lineup. Despite his deceit and motives, Anton still felt a lust for him, quite understandable given his good looks, so when he stepped forward, Anton felt a twang of desire and went down on him with more care and feeling than with the others. He bobbed his head more slowly, working the length of his beautiful, silky-smooth cock, and he avoided stimulating his sensitive glans in order to make their pleasure, his and Alistair's, last as long as possible. He inhaled the fragrance of his crotch, memorizing his unique odour for when he jerked off and thought about the boy standing there, his cock in his hands, an inviting look in those beautiful, gold-flecked hazel eyes. He looked like one of those cherubs you see in ancient religious pictures, a cherub with a boner.

Alistair, like many of the boys there, had only recently become interested in sex, girls now competing with motocross bikes and baseball and Grand Theft Auto, Death Junior and other video games. Also like most boys there he'd only recently discovered the joys of masturbation, and had only begun spurting this school year. Accustomed to just whacking at it until he came, he was delighted with the slower buildup resulting from Anton's technique, and like Anton he was in no hurry to bring an end to the pleasure pulsating between his legs. It was unbelievable how great getting his cock sucked by a boy was, far better than he'd ever imagined it could be. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the throbbing of his stiff cock and the itching of his knob as the pressure to shoot slowly built up in his loins and his dangling balls slowly drew up into a tight ball below his cock. His lips parted and he licked his cherry-red lips as he felt it coming, and he panted in ecstasy as he felt his cum race up the core of his cock and spurt into Anton's mouth. It was thin and watery, and to Anton, it tasted delicious.

Dennis was next. He'd seen how Anton was enjoying sucking off Alistair and that angered the grade eight bully. The plan he, Eddie, Rudy and Alistair had come up with was to humiliate and use the faggot, to show him what they thought of filthy, degenerate queers like him. The plan was not to provide him pleasure. This was not supposed to be a fun thing, not for Anton. The question was how to turn things around, and he had an answer. "Put on your underwear, and your socks."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. I don't want to have to see your piddly little fag dink while you suck me off."

Blushing a bright red with the reference to his lack of size, Anton complied, putting on his tight white Jockey briefs he'd decided to wear instead of the slinky black thong Billy had boughten him for one of what Billy called their modelling sessions and that he usually wore because he liked how he looked in it, if he wore underwear at all. Dennis stepped up to him, and with a smirk, he pulled back the elastic band of his underwear and slipped his dick inside Anton's underwear. "But first I gotta do what I came here for, to take a leak." That had not been Dennis's purpose for coming to the can that day of course, but he did have to go. A couple of the guys snickered and Dennis beamed with pride at having the idea. Not only was it going to humiliate Anton, but it was going to elevate his own status for doing it to him. To be honest, it wasn't an original thought. That was something Dennis seldom had. While surfing the Internet one night he'd come across a site about bullying, and a story about a group of guys who'd beat up a guy they didn't like and pissed on him, among other disgusting things.

As Dennis began to empty his bladder, Anton felt the warmth and wetness quickly spread over his crotch and his heart sank as he heard the snickers around him. Dennis's piss quickly soaked into the thin cotton-nylon underwear and began to trickle down Anton's legs to soak into his knee-high regulation school socks. Despite his humiliation, feeling Dennis's warm, spongy dickhead against his belly and his hot piss flooding over his crotch and running down his legs was erotic and Anton remained hard which to his shame was clearly evident in his piss-soaked briefs.

"Okay, now you can suck on it," Dennis said with a smirk as he removed his cock and stuck it in Anton's face.

Anton slipped his lips over Dennis's still limp cock and began to suck. The residual piss up his urethra was salty and strongly nitrogenous, causing his saliva to flow and he soon had to swallow the piss-flavoured spittle. Anton's cock throbbed with arousal. He loved cock and everything about it, how it smelled, how it tasted, how it felt, even the piss inside it. He could not explain his desire for cock now any more than he could the first time he'd felt it that night of Cory's party the day before Cory's parents came home two and a half months ago. All he knew was that was how he felt, and with each passing day that feeling grew stronger.

Dennis couldn't understand how anyone could possibly enjoy sucking cock as he looked down at Anton in disgust as Anton bobbed his head up and down his shaft. What a queer! He'd actually still had a boner after he'd pissed in his underwear. He was not only a fucking queer, but a total wimp besides! Well, he certainly wasn't complaining. His cock was stiff and the knob tingling with pleasure like he'd never felt before. As the faggot ran his tongue over the rim of his cockhead he quivered with delight and tensed with the achy feeling that a guy felt just before he came even though Anton had only begun sucking. That was a lot faster than when he jerked off. Of course Dennis had no idea that was Anton's intention, to bring him off fast, to give him the least pleasure possible. He was being blown by not only the most dedicated bottom boy he'd ever meet, but also the most skilful. When he came a few seconds later, he sighed with pleasure, not just the pleasure of coming, but the pleasure of having humiliated Anton and bullied him, a far different pleasure than Alistair had felt before him.

Jason was next, and inspired by Dennis's idea and desperate to demonstrate his dislike for Anton and prove they were no longer best buddies, he had his former best friend put on his school shorts and his shoes. Slipping his dick in the fly, he grinned evilly as he began to piss. Again the warm urine flooded Anton's crotch, soaking into his already drenched briefs and soaking now into his tan school shorts. The light-coloured material began to darken almost immediately, forming a large patch over his groin and down the legs. His hot piss continued down Anton's leg to soak into his already sodden socks. When he was done, Jason smugly presented his cock to Anton to suck. Anton did so, not out of his love for cock, but because he had no choice. Had they still been friends and had they been alone he would have readily allowed Jason to piss on him, and he would have given him a blow job like he'd never imagined possible. But they weren't buddies, and were not alone. What could have been a beautiful, loving experience was instead something humiliating and debasing. Like with Dennis, Anton hastened the end. When Jason came, it was disgust and hatred that filled the boy's heart, not pleasure, and Anton felt no pleasure either.

A pattern having been established, the remaining four boys each slipped his cock in Anton's fly and emptied his bladder. The front of his shorts was soaked and the piss ran right through and down his leg to soak into his already sodden knee-high socks and into his shoes to the amusement of his attackers and those who'd already had their cocks sucked and had remained to watch the fun. After what had seemed like hours, the warning bell for afternoon classes cleared out the washroom. Anton put on his shirt and tie and burgundy jacket and looked at himself in the mirror. His tie, shirt and jacket were spotted with spit stains, his hair was matted with spittle and his face streaked from the goobers, and his shorts and socks were darkly stained with piss. He quickly washed his face and did his best to dry off his hair and clothes with paper towelling.

"Good God, look at you!" exclaimed Arnold Penhold as Anton quietly slipped into his afternoon mathematics class ten minutes later.

"I said I wasn't feeling well," Anton said meekly as he stared down at the floor.

"Well, go back to the washroom and get yourself cleaned up."

Anton thought he had cleaned himself up as he turned and headed back to the boys room. As he padded his piss-soaked shorts with paper towelling, trying hopelessly to draw out the piss, the door to the washroom opened. It was Michael Ainslie, one of the students in his class. "Mister Penhold sent me down to see if you were all right," he said.

"I'm okay," Anton said sullenly.

Michael stood there staring at him as Anton continued to wipe off his shorts. It was useless. "It true," he asked hesitantly after a moment, "what they say? That guys pissed in your pants?" Anton nodded. Wasn't it evident? "And that you gave a bunch of guys blow jobs at noon?" Anton nodded again. What point was there in denying it? "I've never had a blow job before," Michael observed hopefully. Why not? What was one more? By the end of the school day every junior high kid in the school was going to know what had happened. And speaking of the end of the day, Julian's team had beat San Jose High on Saturday. He and his father and brothers had some entertaining to do Monday night at the Economy Inn.

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