Even looking down at his freshly shaven body, Joaquin couldn’t quite believe what was happening to him. He couldn’t believe how naked it made him feel, not having pubes anymore. He’d spent years building up his body, working on it so that no one would think to question his masculinity and now any dude looking at his naked body would immediately assume he was a puto, a bitch. And they’d be right. That was exactly what he’d become. Thanks to Jarrod Previn and his group of sick perverts.
Three days ago he’d been taking a shower at the school gym when suddenly Jarrod and a half-dozen of his bros had run into the room. Before he was even aware of what was going on, three of them had grappled him face down onto the floor. He could feel his legs being yanked far apart as he struggled frantically to free himself. And then suddenly he felt a rough hand on his naked ass-cheek, squeezing the muscled globe hard, and he turned his head around to see Jarrod kneeling between his legs, stroking his hard dick, grinning at him like the devil incarnate. “I warned you, bitch. I warned you about talking to Elise. But you didn’t listen, You didn’t listen and now you’re gonna pay the price. Now you’re gonna pay the price, you fucking faggot.”
Joaquin couldn’t believe his ears. He’d told Jarrod that he wasn’t interested in Elise, that he wasn’t making any moves on her. The only reason he even talked to her at all was because she was his chem partner and he had to talk to her in class. It wasn’t his fault if sometimes she flirted with him. But Joaquin never encouraged her, he never led her on. He knew she was Jarrod’s girl and he had no interest in her. He’d told Jarrod all that. And he’d thought the other boy had understood. But apparently he’d been wrong about that. It was pretty obvious now the other boy hadn’t believe him and was planning on making Joaquin pay for putting the moves on Jarrod’s girl, even though Joaquin really hadn’t done anything like that.
Desperately, Joaquin pleaded with other boy, “Dude, you’re wrong. You’re wrong. I’m not interested in your girlfriend, dude. I’m not. I’m not a faggot but I’m not interested in Elise either. She might be interested in me but I’m not interested in her. Not at all. I promise you that. Don’t do this, dude. I’m begging you, don’t do this.”
“Shut the fuck up, faggot,” Jarrod had sneered. “I was just talking to her and she told me how ‘hot’ she thinks you are, how ‘sexy.’ You can’t tell me you ain’t been leading her on to have her talk like that. Well, after me and my buddies finish plowing out your faggot pussy and we show her the pictures of how we bitched you out, I’m sure she won’t find you so sexy in the future – not after she’s seen all our spent boy-scuzz dribbling out of your faggot boycunt.” And with that, grinning wildly, Jarrod leaned forward and drove his hard boy-cock all the way up Joaquin’s virgin asshole.
Joaquin could hear himself howling like a banshee as Jarrod pistoned his rigid cuntbuster in and out of Joaquin’s aching back-hole like he had a pile-driver between his legs. Joaquin had never felt such pain in his life. And, if anything, the humiliation of being fucked on the shower floor like some sleazy bitch, of having his virginity so viciously ripped from his body, of listening to the taunts and jibes of Jarrod’s friends as they stood around laughing at him, waiting for their turn up his newly riven fuck-chute, was even worse than the awesome physical agony Joaquin was suffering. And all the time he was being fucked, Joaquin could hear the click, click of the iPhones as picture after picture of his deflowering was being shared with fellow classmates and total strangers.
An hour later, after the last of the six of them had gotten his nut, they left Joaquin sprawled on the shower room floor, his gaping hole oozing their ball-scum. It took Joaquin a full half-hour before he could gather enough strength to get off the floor, clean himself up as best he could, and then stagger to this locker. Slowly, wincing in pain, he dressed himself. Somehow he managed to make it home, where he collapsed on his bed, too exhausted and wrecked to even try taking his clothes off. He passed out in just minutes. And when he woke up the next morning, his body and his asshole were as sore as if he’d been raped just hours before. He was tempted not to go to school but he was afraid that doing that might just make things worse.
Any hope that Joaquin nourished that his assault was a one-time thing vanished before his first period class even started. Jarrod strutted past him on his way to own desk and loudly announced, “I wanna see you in the boys bathroom after class, bitch. Don’t make me wait. I’ve got a big load that needs taking care of.” From the way all of Joaquin’s other classmates snickered and laughed, it was obvious that the pictures of his shower-room rape had made it all around school.
When, after class, Joaquin reluctantly showed up in the boys bathroom as Jarrod had ordered him to, the other boy was already there waiting for him with a pair of his bros. Jarrod pushed him roughly against a urinal, lowered Joaquin’s shorts and then literally ripped Joaquin’s underwear from his body. “Bitch,” he exclaimed, slapping Joaquin’s ass over and over again, “who told you you could wear underwear? A bitch like you should be going commando all the time so real dudes don’t have to wait to get at your goodies. Understand, bitch? Understand? No more underwear, ever. Unless it’s a nice pair of panties that I’ve picked out for you. Understand, bitch?”
Trapped, not knowing what else to say, Joaquin simply said, “Yes.”
“Yeah, right,” Jarrod sneered, “fucking faggots like you have to learn their proper position in life and by the time I’m finished with you, bitch, you’ll realize your proper position is bent over at the waist, legs spread wide apart, taking my dick up your slimy pussy.” And with that, Jarrod thrust his entire body forward, forcing Joaquin hard against the porcelain of the urinal, impaling his sore boy-hole yet again with Jarrod’s own iron-hard dick.
Jarrod fucked Joaquin for a good five minutes, reaming out the boy’s hole seemingly oblivious to the other boys who were draining their bladders on either side of him. For Joaquin, hearing the other boys pee, hearing their piss splattering against the porcelain bowls right next to him and the stifled chuckles of the peeing boys as they watched Jarrod rape him again brought home how low his reputation had sunk in just 24 hours. No one was coming to his defense, no one was objecting. They all seemed to take it as a matter of course that Jarrod would be fucking Joaquin’s naked ass in the boys bathroom. It was obvious that he’d already been marked as a faggot cum-slut by all his classmates. And when, after Jarrod was done with him, after he’d left another deposit of his steaming boy-spunk buried deep up the sobbing teenager’s hole, Joaquin wasn’t even that surprised to discover that Jarrod’s friends had soaked his shorts with their piss. It was open season on him now. Joaquin knew that. He was fair game for any dude in school who wanted to molest him. Trying to stifle the tears that continued to flow down his face, Joaquin reached down and gingerly pulled the soggy, stinking shorts over his aching ass and then slowly headed out of the bathroom to his next class.
Jarrod fucked Joaquin three more times that day, basically turning the boys bathroom into his personal fuck-parlor. His last assault occurred right after the final class of the day and, after it was over, Jarrod forced Joaquin to kneel on the floor and then he and four of his friends emptied their bladders all over Joaquin’s naked body, drenching him with their rancid teen-boy piss.
Jarrod stood over his thoroughly humiliated victim, a look of immense self-satisfaction on his face. “See you tomorrow, faggot. Same time, same place, same drill.” Joaquin didn’t even try to look up at him as Jarrod left the room, laughing aloud, his coterie of cronies trailing behind. Like ab automaton, Joaquin pulled his clothes back on, not even bothering to try to wipe off the dripping urine that still coated his body. Joaquin was keenly aware of the mixture of amusement and contempt that he elicited as he dragged his abused and reeking body down the corridor and out of the building and it was all he could do to keep from bawling again.
If Joaquin had needed any further proof of just how low his standing with his fellow students had fallen, it was provided that afternoon by his younger brother, who was a freshman at the same high school, when he walked into Joaquin’s room and said, “Get on your knees, bitch. I want you to blow me.”
Joaquin had looked at his younger brother in shock. “Are you crazy, bro?” he asked incredulously. “There’s no fucking way I’m going to suck you off,.”
“Well, then,” his brother had responded, “I guess I’ll have to show mom and dad the pictures of you getting your ass fucked by all those dudes in the shower. God knows what they’ll think of you after they see them.”
Joaquin just stared at his brother open-mouthed. Finally, he managed to say, “You’d do that? You’d do that to me, your own brother? You’d show mom and dad those disgusting photos? Why? Why?”
“Why?” his brother had repeated sarcastically. “I’ll tell you why, bro. Because I’ve got a reputation to protect, even if you don’t. Because I’ve got friends who’ve looked at the same photos and are wondering whether I’m like my older brother – whether I’m some flaming faggot like you are.”
“And how is me sucking you off gonna help you convince your friends that you’re not a faggot?”
“Well,” his brother answered, smiling archly, “tomorrow, I’ll go to school and tell my bros how my own brother sucked me off last night and of course they’ll wonder whether I’m shitting them. So I’ll tell them I’ll prove it – I’ll bring them by and have my brother suck them off, too. And I’m gonna do that, bro. And you’re gonna suck off each and every one of them – and me, too. And that way, they’ll know I’m not a fag like you.”
“You’re gonna pimp me out to your friends? Is that what you’re gonna do, pimp me out to your friends, just to protect your own rep?”
“Don’t put this on me, bro. Don’t try to put this on me. I’m not the one who let half a dozen dudes fuck his butt in the shower. Hell, you’re lucky I’m letting you off with just blowing us all. I could have you bend over and take all their dicks up your pussy. Who knows, bro? You’d probably enjoy that. Be thankful I’m letting you off this time with blowing them. Anyway, right now we don’t have all day. Mom and dad will be home soon and I’d imagine you wouldn’t want them catching you sucking off your younger brother. So on your knees, bro, and open your mouth. You’re giving me a blowjob whether you want to or not.”
Slowly, Joaquin dropped to his knees and opened his mouth and his younger brother stuck his hard boy-dick inside and kept it there, plowing frantically in and out until he’d shot his load, giving Joaquin his first taste of boy-scum. And even Joaquin knew it wasn’t going to be his last.
The next day was Friday and while Joaquin didn’t doubt that he’d be fucked again in school that day, he figured at least he’d have the next two days in which to recover. He wasn’t surprised when Jarrod ordered him to meet the other boy in the bathroom after the first class but this time, when he showed up, Jarrod order the boy to strip completely naked before he fucked him, an additional humiliation that Joaquin wasn’t prepared for. And this time, after he’d finished fucking Joaquin, he ordered the boy to turn around and face him.
Even after everything that had happened to him over the last two days, Joaquin was surprised how humiliated he felt having to stand there, freshly-fucked and stark naked, unable to even cover his crotch, as his tormentor coolly appraised his body, while his fellow students continue to troop in and out, using the facilities, and mocking and laughing at him as he stood there naked and exposed. Finally, Jarrod began speaking.
“Boy,” he said with a smirk, “you’re gonna have to lose those pubes. Pubes are designed for a man’s body but they look totally out of place on a fuck-bitch like you. So when you get home tonight, you go into the bathroom and shave them off, all of them. And make sure you do a good job. Tomorrow, if I see a single hair on your crotch, junk or pussy, I’ll give you a real ass-whupping.”
As mortified as Joaquin was to hear that he’d have to shave off his pubes, he was more distressed by Jarrod’s reference to seeing him the next day. “Tomorrow?” he asked, hoping that he had misunderstood.
“Oh, yeah, bitch,” Jarrod replied, his smirk transforming into a broad smile. “I wanted to tell you about that. Tomorrow, the soccer team’s holding a practice and, afterwards, I’m going to be offering all my bros a little humping party – and you’re gonna be providing the pussy. Now I figure you probably don’t want to be entertaining all those dudes at your home – they can be pretty loud and obnoxious when they’re nailing a bitch – so I thought I’d have it at the old abandoned construction site behind the gymnasium. I figure the practice will end around 1:00 p.m., so I want you there no later than 12:45 p.m. After all, there’s no reason to have my bros waiting for a faggot whore to show up. And, bitch, you better be naked, completely naked, when we get there. If you have so much as a scrap of clothing anyplace on your body when we arrive, I’ll live-stream the entire session to all your classmates. I’m sure they’d all love to see you in action again – to see how a faggot slut services a whole team of horny soccer studs. So, if you know what’s good for you, bitch, you’ll be there on time and naked as a jaybird.”
Even though Joaquin was fucked a numerous other times that day at school, not only by Jarrod but by some of his buddies, too, all Joaquin could think about was what was going to happen to him the next day. He thought of not showing up, of maybe going to the authorities. But, if he did that, then everybody would know, including his mother and father, that he’d been fucked up the ass numerous times, that he’d allowed himself to be bitched out by other dudes. They even might find out that he had sucked off his own younger brother and he was a minor and that would make Joaquin look like a child molester even though his brother had made him do it. He couldn’t go to the authorities; it was too late for that.
He thought about running away – just leaving the entire town behind. But, if he did that, what would he do, how would he live? Without even a high-school diploma he’d be lucky if he could find any sort of work. Hell, he might end up having to sell his body to other men just to eat and what would be the point of leaving then? Totally distraught, Joaquin still realized he had no real option but to do what Jarrod had ordered him to.
That afternoon, the first thing Joaquin did when he got home from school was go into the bathroom and shave off his pubes, as Jarrod had told him to. He shaved off almost all of his pit-hair, too, just to be on the safe side. But no sooner had he finished shaving and putting his clothes back on than he heard his brother calling for him to come downstairs. When Joaquin did so, he discovered his brother standing in the living room with four of his friends. “Strip, bitch,” his brother roughly ordered him.
“Bro,” Joaquin pleaded, “don’t make me do this.”
“Don’t give me that ‘bro’ crap, bitch,” his brother sneered, obviously playing it up for his friends’ benefit. “Get out of those clothes and get on your knees. Me and my real bros, we’re all horny and you’re gonna suck us off. Now, bitch,” he continued when Joaquin hesitated, “we only have a couple of hours before mom and dad get home and you wouldn’t want them seeing you sucking dick in the living room, would you?”
Sighing in capitulation, Joaquin began removing his clothing. When he lowered his pants and his newly shaven crotch came into view, the entire room erupted in guffaws. “Jesus Christ,” one of the boys exclaimed, “I had more hair on my crotch when I was eleven. What a faggot.” All the other boys laughed in agreement.
Joaquin’s humiliation at being so openly mocked by these young teenagers was so great that he could feel the tears start in his eyes, though he was able to keep from actually shedding any of them. But his entire body was flushing a scarlet red as he sank to his knees and, when his brother walked up to him and presented the first cock for servicing, he meekly spread his lips apart and took his younger brother’s dick into his mouth while all the other young teenagers hooted and hollered.
All told, Joaquin downed six loads of freshman boy-cream that afternoon, his brother making a point of forcing Joaquin to suck him off twice. Most of the boys stayed hard, even after Joaquin had brought them off and one of the suggested that they try out Joaquin’s pussy, too. “Maybe next time,” his brother replied, “but it’s getting late and my parents will be home soon. Besides, the bitch has the whole soccer team lined up for tomorrow. So it’s not like his fag-cunt won’t be seeing a lot of action this weekend.”
Hearing this last comment from his brother, Joaquin finally realized how wide-spread the knowledge of everything that was happening to him really was. Even the fucking freshmen knew what was going on, what Jarrod had in store for him tomorrow. Even the fucking freshmen.
After his brother’s friends left and his brother let him get dressed, Joaquin went back upstairs. And there, in the privacy of his bedroom, he shed the tears he’d held back downstairs. He was the laughingstock of the whole school. That was obvious now. And he still had tomorrow to deal with. Tomorrow and the entire soccer team. He couldn’t believe how horrible his life had become in just a few short days. And he couldn’t see any end to it. None at all. That night, he cried himself to sleep.
The next day, Joaquin arrived at the old construction site early. He didn’t want to be late; he didn’t want to give Jarrod any excuse to live-stream what was going to be happening to him. And, for the same reason, he stripped down right after he’d arrived, even though it made him feel incredibly dirty to be standing outside, completely naked, without even a smattering of pubic hair to cover his crotch and boy-junk. And he’d been that way ever since, even though it had to be close to 2:00 p.m., by now. But even as the hope blossomed in his mind that they wouldn’t show up, that this was just some sick joke on Jarrod’s part, Joaquin could hear the unmistakable sounds of male voices growing louder and louder. And as the voices grew louder and louder, Joaquin could hear the excitement in them, the boisterous anticipation. And why wouldn’t these boys be excited? They were about to gangbang the school fuck-bitch. They were about to gangbang him.
And as Jarrod strode into view, his smile broadening as he saw the naked Joaquin standing in front of him, Joaquin felt his heart sink. He was about to get gang-fucked by a crowd of horny teenage boys and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Not a damn thing. And, even though he didn’t want to, he couldn’t help but start crying.
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