High School Bullies III (Micah)

The day went by excruciatingly slowly. I decided to take a brief hiatus during lunch, a walk around the school to clear my head. I walked around the courtyard, to the back of the school where I had planned to walk around the quarter-mile, however right before I stepped onto the track, through the gym’s back windows, I saw something. Micah Dempsey, in his gym clothes, a basketball under his arm and a towel over his shoulder. Micah walked toward the boy’s locker room. This, I could not resist. Against all the good judgment my mind could muster, I found myself standing behind the thin wall that separated the rows of lockers from the communal shower area. As it was lunch, very few people were in the locker room. In fact, at that moment it was only me, standing timidly behind the shower divider, and Micah who sat solemnly on one of the benches between two rows of burnt orange lockers. I was transfixed. My eyes surveyed, slowly, the smooth window of skin between Micah’s shorts and his rising shirt as he bent down to untie his shoes. My gaze then ventured down the boy’s legs, his stout thighs, his wonderfully pronounced calves that tapered and became what I, at this moment, could only think of as the most captivating ankles in the world. His legs alone, I thought, and my thoughts in lust were often this dramatic, were enough to break the heart of any person so inclined. Micah, throwing his shoes in a pile next to his gym bag, began to role his shirt off above his head. I could see the crease that formed between the boy’s shoulder blades; the dimples below the small of his back as he took his shirt off and threw it with the rest of his things with such insouciant sloppiness that I felt a tinge of disgust. The trance, of coarse, was hardly broken. Micah then lifted his arm to sniff his armpit. I wondered if this were something Micah would have done had he known that he was being watched. I wondered what he would do if he actually did find out that he was being watched. But no such thing happened. Instead Micah slipped off his shorts and if he was wearing underwear they must have come off with them. I studied his naked body with such circumspection that I thought I might have a heart attack if any one were to some how find me, surprise me in any way. I wondered what Micah’s body would feel like on my own, what it tasted like; I gazed at the boys butt, it’s fullness, it’s symmetrical form, and marveled at its awkward beauty. I wondered what it would be like to feel down his crack with my finger. Imagining the soft flesh, the hole, imagining the smell. I suddenly realized something I should have been prepared for: Micah was undressing because he was going to take a shower. How could I not have realized that Micah was going to, at some point very soon, walk straight behind the divider to take a shower? If I was not quick in my escape I would certainly be caught. Micah bent down and grabbed all of his things from the floor and threw them in the gym bag. In a panic, I moved around the other opening in the divider but in doing so slipped on the wet tile of the shower bed. The noise, obvious enough to startle any one who thought he or she was alone, instantly caused Micah to jump, “Who’s that?” He asked, alarmed. At this Micah, with a certain nervous alacrity, paced toward the showers. I was petrified. I knew it was over and there would be no doubt to what I had been doing. It was fairly common knowledge that I was gay and to Micah and his friends it was all too repulsive a notion. I knew this wouldn’t end well but there was no time to escape.

He emerged from the divider a vision of both beauty and raw odium. I lay on the floor, embarrassed but unable to tear my eyes from his naked body. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me dude!” His voice echoed. “Was your little faggot ass watching me undress?” He grinned and let out a noxious laugh. “I… I was about to take a shower.” I muttered, still hypnotized by his brazen nudity. “I, I, I” he mocked, “You’re fully clothed faggot. You and I both know what you were doing.” he said, walking towards me. He crouched down and looked me in the eye, his dick and ball sack almost brushing the damp floor of the shower. “Well kid, today’s your lucky day ‘cause I just so happen to be in a giving mood!” I averted my gaze from him for the first time since he had discovered me. I was nervous but intrigued. I did, however, realize that there was a real possibility that I was about to have the shit beaten out of me, but I made little effort to run. Micah spun his body around and grabbed my head behind him. He was squatting inches above my face—his smooth, tan butt was nodding at me. “I was just about to take a big old poo, but why waste a good faggot when you got one right?” I was confused. Was he actually saying what I thought he was saying? I heard him grunt. “Open up wide like a good toilet.” He let out a huge, wet fart followed by a steady stream of warm, sloppy shit. His laughter echoed through out the showers as he let his smelly load flow onto my face. It seemed to go on for an abnormally long time. I was horrified but when I tried to escape it was met with equal force. He whipped my head back into his ass until he had let out his whole load of poop. Then he slowly lowered his butt onto my face and smeared what must have been 4 pounds of soft, mushy shit all over my face. The smell was unbearable. I tried to scream but shit filled my mouth. “Eat all the poop like a good little faggot toilet, yeahhhhhhh. Good boy! Mmmmmmmm!” When he was done humiliating me he stood up and laughed hysterically at my shit covered face and clothes. “Stay there.” He ordered as he ran to his bag to get something. He took out his phone and took a picture of me lying there. My heart sank. I knew he would send the picture to everyone in the school but there was nothing I could do. “You should probably rinse off huh?” He grinned, grabbed his dick, and began peeing all over me. “That’s it, nice and clean.” He said softly, smiling. I could feel the hot piss splashing against my face and soaking into my clothes. Then he showered quickly as I lay there and simply left the locker room with out another word. Before I could even begin cleaning myself up or trying to understand what had just happened the bell rang and the, now, devastating sound of many footsteps ensued.

Related Articles

Responses

People Who Like Thisx

Loading...