Rivals
By Aldric
Copyright 2015 by Aldric Pietar@spamex.com,
all rights reserved
*
* * * *
This
story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It
contains depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not
of a
legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material
does not
appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
Comments
may be made to Pietar@spamex.com
This
story depicts minors in unusual conditions
that may include unprotected, unsafe sex or extreme humiliation.
Obviously,
this does not describe real life and should not be taken as such. In
the real
world, behaviors as described in the story are not acceptable,
tolerated, or
legal. The reader should never confuse the difference between fiction
and real
life. This story is fictional.
* * * * *
Rivals
“Are
you positive you’re willing to go through with this?” Jacob asked his brother
Zeke.
“Positive. It’ll be embarrassing, but worth it. I’ll get back at West and that dork won’t
suspect a thing until it’s too late.”
“Look
man, we’re going to do our best to scare the shit out of you, and we’re going
to be rough when we catch you,” one of Jacob’s teammates said. “I want you to know now that we don’t mean it
and we’ve got a lot of respect for you just for going along with this
plan. Jacob is very proud of you and for
good reason.” He and his three partners,
all starters on the East Bay City football team patted Zeke on the back.
“Just
be ready to get us out of here the minute I get him over the line,” Zeke
said. “And don’t forget to drop the bag
when I kick you.”
“Just
please make sure it’s Greg you kick and not one of us.” Greg was a 225 pound offensive lineman and he
towered over Zeke, as did the other two members of the team.
“I’m
the only one wearing a cup,” Greg said, “So don’t get it wrong. And I’ll fall over backward and toss the bag
behind me. Just run over me, get the
bag, and go.”
“And
give the best acting performance of your life,” Jacob said. “Otherwise, if he catches on, your plan will
backfire in the worst way and there won’t be anything we can do about it.”
“I
got it!” Zeke said. “Get out of here
before he sees us together. I know how
to do this.”
The
rivalry between East and West Bay city had been fierce since the new high
school was built in West Bay City six years ago. It had started out as fun but rapidly grew
out of control. The school
administration had been thinking about ways to try and control it for the last
two years.
Last
year at the game, the stadium, which was shared by both teams, was filled with
posters of a boy in his underwear dancing while brushing his teeth. The unfortunate East-side boy, who was only
twelve years old at the time, was at the game when the posters were reviled and
was totally humiliated.
The
coaches from both teams didn’t wait for the school board to act, they agreed to
get control of the situation immediately.
Nobody knew if the prank had affected the outcome of the game, but
several players from the East side team had almost been ejected for poor
sportsmanship. They imposed a rule that
starting a week before the annual game any player crossing the dividing line
between the two sides of town would be banned from the game.
The
word leaked out that the pictures had been taken by the star defensive player
on the West team, Quentin Becker. The
east side team wanted revenge. But it
was the boy who had come up with the plan they needed. There was no rule preventing him from
crossing over. And as long as no
pictures of his intended victim appeared there might be rumors but nothing the
coaches could do to any players.
Now
thirteen, Zeke was ready. Seeing himself
in briefs on posters everywhere in the stadium had been very embarrassing and
he spent the next year planning his revenge.
His target was the thirteen year old brother of the star defensive
player on the west team.
His
plan was filled with risk, as he had no intention of getting even. He was going for the total defeat and
humiliation of Clayton Becker. He had
developed the tools he needed with only minor help for his older brother. And he had spent endless hours practicing
each phase.
Close
to the line, he stayed out of sight while watching. He had observed Clayton Becker for months and
knew he would be passing by on his side of the line while heading home. He only had a short wait until he saw Clayton
coming and gave the signal to the high school boys hiding behind him. Then he ran.
Clay
saw the boy running and watched as he tripped.
The boy tried to get up but it was too late. The much bigger football players were on
him. They grabbed him and started
cutting his shirt off. Clay stood and
watched. He couldn’t hear much except
for the boy’s screams for help but it something to do with school spirt.
Once
they had him shirtless, they began cutting off his pants, right there on the
street. It only took seconds and then
his pants, like his shirt, was in ribbons.
The biggest of the three boys moved in front of the boy and reached for
his underwear. It was at that moment
that Clay recognized the boy—he was the boy in the posters. Last summer Clay had played soccer against
him, and like the other kids on Clay’s team, laughed at him and called him
‘undieboy.’
One
of the other big boys let go to grab something and the boy managed to send a
perfect soccer kick right to the nuts of the biggest football player, who was
actually lifted into the air a few inches by the kick. The boy managed to get free of the last bully
and ran, grabbing a bag off the ground as he did. He didn’t hesitate but ran right across the
line and right towards Clay.
Two
of the football players chased him, while the biggest one moaned while in the
fetal position. They ran right up to the
dividing line and one of them had to pull the other back to keep him from
crossing.
“You
have to come back sometime Zeke, and we’ll be waiting for you!” one of them
yelled.
Clay
wasn’t sure why, but he stepped out into the open and said, “Come on, I live
just down here. You’ll be safe there.”
“Uh,
I’m kind of uh, feeling a draft,” Zeke said.
“Any chance I could borrow your shirt?”
Clay
handed his shirt over and said. “You’re
Zeke Asher. I remember you from the
posters. And for kicking your ass in
soccer.”
“And
you’re Clayton Becker,” Zeke said as he buttoned up the shirt. “And thanks for the shirt. And you didn’t kick my ass, just the rest of my team.”
He saw the questioning look on Clay’s face and added, “Your name was on
your soccer jersey.”
“I go
by Clay. This is my house,” Clay
said. “Come on in and we’ll see if I
have any pants that fit you.”
“If
you don’t mind, your brother is the one who honored me in posters last
year. I don’t care for a repeat this
year. Anywhere we can hang out outside
until the bonfires start up? Then I can
sneak back home.”
“Sure,”
Clay said. “I’ve got an old fort out
back. We can go there. How come kids from your side were after you?”
“Because
I wouldn’t show school spirt. They
wanted me to color my hair red and get a Mohawk and paint my face and chest for
the rally and the game. And after last
year I just didn’t want anything to do with it.”
Clay
made small talk, mostly about soccer and Zeke was getting bored. He thought the kid would never ask about the
bag. But his practice had showed that it
was important for the kid to bring up the bag, not him. So he waited impatiently.
“What’s
in the bag?” Clay asked.
Finally,
Zeke said to himself. “The bag?” He
looked to where Clay was looking and said, “Oh, yeah, they were caring it. I don’t know what’s in it. Let’s find out.”
He
knew perfectly well what was in the bag.
He had built it. He had tested
it. And he had practiced putting it on
other kids until he could do it in ten seconds blindfolded, just in case he had
to do it in the dark. He dumped it
out. There were three pieces of metal,
each about a foot long. One piece had
eight large holes drilled through it with a smaller hole at each end. The second piece had a smaller hole near
each end that appeared to line up with the small holes in the first piece. The last piece had two smaller, threaded
holes near each end. There were two
screws and a screwdriver.
There
was also five inch long plastic penis with an elastic band attached to it. As Zeke expected, Clay picked up the plastic
penis first.
“Yuck! I think this was going to go in your ass,” he
said, dropping it. Then he picked up the
metal bars.
“But
what the hell are these for?” he asked.
“I
don’t know, let’s see them.” Zeke
pretended to examine them but was keeping an eye on Clay. When Clay didn’t offer any suggestions, he
slipped the fingers of one hand into the top four larger holes up to the second
knuckle. “I don’t have a clue,” he said,
sliding his fingers out and handing them back to Clay.
“I
think I know,” Clay said. “Put your
fingers in again.” Zeke did as he was
told. “Now put the fingers of your other
hand in the other holes.” Again, Zeke
did it. His fingers pointed out each
side and he bent his fingers so that they were vertical until they went through
the holes. “Now watch.” He picked up one of the other pieces and held
it over the back of Zeke’s fingers on one side and then the third piece on the
other. The screws went through the first
two pieces and threaded into the third.
He grabbed the screwdriver and tightened them. “Now you’re trapped,” he said. Then they were going to cut and dye your
hair. And my sister uses this, it
removes hair. So I guess rather than
shave the sides they were just going to chemically remove them.”
Zeke
was happy. Clay had it almost
right. And now it was time to see if his
plan was going to work.
“I
think you did it wrong,” he said. “Take
the screws out and let me show you how I think they planned it.”
Clay
removed the screws, releasing Zeke’s hands.
He didn’t notice when Zeke reached into his shoes and removed two
special screws.
“Put
your hand behind your back and then through the holes,” he said. Trusting him, Clay did as asked. Zeke quickly attached the three bars, only
instead of the regular screws he used one-way tamper resistant screws that
could only be screwed in, the cuts in the head were rounded to prevent using a
screw driver to remove them. And Zeke
had counter sunk the heads into the bar so that vice grips wouldn’t help
either.
“That’s
how these work,” he said as he tightened the screws as tight as he could get
them. “And this doesn’t go in your ass,
although it’s tempting. It goes in your
mouth to keep you quiet.” He pinched Clay’s
nose as Clay started demanding he remove the finger pillories. The plastic dick when in and almost reached the
back of Clay’s throat while he pulled the strap around Clay’s head to keep him
from spitting it out.
Zeke
had heard of finger pillories that were used years ago in England. Once he looked it up he knew he could do
better. And Clay was going to be wearing
them a long time. The bars were made of
hardened stainless steel, which would make them hard to cut with a
hacksaw. And that was the only way to
get them off. When he tested them he had
a second set that he cut a little notch so that the screw could be cut, but
there was no notch on this pair.
He
picked Clay up and removed his shorts.
Clay tried to kick him, but Zeke had practiced this on several kids
about Clay’s size and he told them to resist as much as possible. By now he knew where to stand to avoid being
kicked.
“I
wish you weren’t so damn small,” Zeke said as he pulled the shorts on. They were very tight in the crotch and he
almost couldn’t get them snapped, but they would do until he could get Clay
across the line. His last action in the
fort was to pull down and off Clay’s boxers, and then the only thing he hadn’t
seen in his practice happened—Clay got an erection.
“Shit,
you’re not more than 4 inches long hard,” he said. “But at least I’m glad to see that you’re
enjoying this. But we’ve got a lot more
planned for you, so let’s go.”
Nobody
had seen Clay’s dick in the last six years except his doctor. Being stripped by a boy he thought he was
saving was extremely humiliating. He had
no idea why he got hard, it just happened.
And Clay knew it was about to get worse.
He tried to yell or scream, but Zeke pushed the penis in a little
further until he gagged a little. Then
Zeke reached down and flicked his finger on the back of Clay’s balls, getting
the exact reaction he wanted.
“Stay
quiet and walk where I lead your or I’ll drag you by your balls,” he said as he
headed out. It was just getting dark, so
he was already behind schedule. He
hurried them along and was lucky nobody was out that he had to hide from.
As
soon as he crossed the line Greg ran over and picked Clay up and carried
him. “You’re late,” he said as he ran
towards the car. “We’re going to be late
to the bonfire. And how come he’s
naked? I thought…”
“He’s
not going anywhere, just drop us off nearby and I’ll finish him and bring him
in,” Zeke said. “It took forever for him
to ask about the bag. Everyone saw me in
my underwear because of his brother, now I’m going to show him how I deal with
that.” His brother’s friends didn’t
understand, this wasn’t about being rivals, this was personal.
Clay
was scared. He had no idea what Zeke had
planned, but he knew he was going to be naked for it. He wanted to tell him he was sorry and that
he had nothing to do what his brother had done, but all he could do was
mumble. And Zeke wasn’t listening
anyway.
“First
your hair,” he said. He began cutting
along both sides and using a stiffener to make the center stand up
straight. It only took a few minutes to
give Clay the Bay City East Warrior’s Mohawk haircut. Then he moved quickly on to the dye he
had. Unlike the dye all the supporters
used for tonight’s game, this was a permanent hair color product that would
turn Clay’s hair bright red, one of the Warriors colors.
While
it was setting, he painted Clay’s chest brown, the other warrior color. He had cutout of the warrior emblem that he
used on each cheek (facial, but that gave him a great idea and soon Clay’s butt
cheeks were also colored.) And his final
job was the hair remover his mother used.
Once
everything was dry, he used a hose to rinse, and Clay looked the way every
proud warrior would look like that night (except for being naked and hands
bound behind his back). Years ago the
emblem had been of a naked warrior, but times had changed and the new one was a
face only. But Clay was naked, painted,
and cut. It was too bad his tears had
caused one of the emblems to run, but it was too late to fix that now. Without his pubic hair he looked no more than
ten or eleven years old. And he still
had the boner.
“Our
pep rally is right over that hill,” he said pointing. There was already a visible glow meaning the
bonfire had been lit. “After you make an
appearance there, somebody will lead you to your side’s pep rally, and
hopefully the wildcats will take great offence at a warrior coming upon them in
the dark. Go there on your own and I
won’t do anything further to you.”
He
stepped back and pointed a camera at Clay.
The flash blinded him, and Zeke took two more pictures.
“I’ve
waited all year for this, don’t disappoint me.
Make sure your brother understands that he embarrassed the wrong boy
last year.”
Clay
didn’t even know for sure where he was and he didn’t have much of a
choice. There was no way he could get
free by himself. He headed for the glow
behind the crest of the hill.
Nearly
every kid from the East side between the ages of 10 and 20 was there and a
shout went out as soon as they saw Clay approaching. Laughter grew immediately when they realized
it wasn’t one of their side walking naked towards them. More flashes shinned into Clay’s eyes as
people with cell phones started taking pictures.
When
he got close a boy his age pulled on the plastic penis enough to see what it
was, then he let it snap back when he saw.
“If you wanted to suck on something all you had to do was ask,” the boy
said. He then proceeded to tell everyone
else what was in Clay’s mouth.
Clay’s
dick was rock hard, twitching on its own and swaying as he walked. Clay hadn’t even know he’d lost his pubes
until kids started laughing and yelling about his lack of hair. All Clay could do was move slowly through the
crowd, tears running down his face.
Once
he got near the fire, many of the boys Clay had played soccer against were
there. They remembered the names Clay
and his teammates had called Zeke and started calling him nudie until somebody
yelled ‘No Pubes” and that caught on.
Clay knew he’d be hearing that all next summer.
Finally,
the football team took control and told the crowd that he had to return to his
side of the line. There were many
volunteers to lead him over to the next rally, which was close enough to see
and hear.
Quint
Becher, Clay’s brother, had been wondering where Clay was. Even though Clay didn’t want to wear the Blue
and White school colors, he thought the least his brother could do was show
up. After all, even though he didn’t
play football, he did play for the middle school’s soccer team.
The
West side kids had seen Clay’s approach and yelled out that a warrior was
invading their camp but then he got close enough for them to see that he was
naked. Quint looked when he heard the
laughter immediately saw that it was his brother.
“Shut
up everyone, that’s Clay! That’s my
brother! And I’m going to kill the son
of a bitch who did this to him.” Quint
began to run towards the line and it took several players to hold him
back. Finally they got through to him
that they needed him to play if they were to have a chance at winning. And if he crossed the line, he’d be banned
from the game.
Clay
walked to him and tried to hush the crowd.
But even though it was one of their own, a naked seventh grader in
public was something to laugh at and many of the middle school kids couldn’t
prevent laughing, even when the football players turned and looked at
them. Even some of the high school kids
were laughing, and it grew even louder when Quint pulled the plastic penis out
of his brother’s mouth.
“Get
a screwdriver,” a kid yelled when he tried to free Clay’s hands. Several people ran to cars and they ended up
bring back several tool boxes. “It won’t
turn,” Quint said. A flashlight came on
and they could see why. “They used those
special bolts that can’t be unscrewed.”
In
the end it took several of them and several hacksaws to cut through the
toughened metal and free Clay’s arms. A
letterman jacket was then wrapped around him, ending his naked display.
Instead
of answering questions, Clay just said, “I just want to go home Quint.”
The
pep rally was ruined. Nobody felt like
partying, and when Quint left to take his brother home the fire was put out and
people started leaving. Quint’s
girlfriend tried to rinse the color out of Clay’s hair, but realized it wasn’t
going to rinse out. “The only thing to
do is cut it off and wait for it to grow back.”
On
the field the next day, Quint was called for two personal fouls before being
ejected from the game. Without him, the
East’s quarterback, Jacob Asher was able to complete several long passes and
East ended up winning. Quint knew he’d
blown it. There were a lot of college
scouts there and all they saw was his poor sportsmanship and his ejection. He had very few games left to try and
convince a good college to give him a scholarship.
And
Clay started planning his revenge. He
didn’t intend to wait a full year. He
heard that most of the girls in his school had pictures of him naked. He was teased by some boys, supported by
others. And one girl, who admitted she
had a picture of him, asked him if he’d go out with her. He said yes and had a good time. But for him, the rivals were no longer the
two football teams. Zeke had made it
personal. This was now between him and
Zeke Ashen.
The End
P.S.: If anyone wants to write a continuation of
this story go ahead and do it. I don’t
have a sequel planned at this time.
(The End)