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High School Bully

The football jock gets the goods on the wimpy scholar...

I had always been a little afraid of Tony Fox. He was a mountain of a kid -- as big and as quiet but not nearly as dumb. Though he was in my Advanced Algebra class, he didn't look the type. A football player of some sort, Tony had a look about him that said, "My mom let me dress myself today." He would have been an easy target to pick on if he didn't stand well over six feet tall and have arms the size of my thighs. As it was, I tried to stay clear of him.

Despite my typical stance of avoidance, Tony sought me out a late May afternoon in C Hall. "Hey, Mike," he said. Even in these words I found a slight bit of malice. "We need to talk... but not here. Come over to my house after school today. Be there by four." He shoved a slip of paper into my hand with his paw. I hadn't said a peep. Having seen some of his hallway violence against a Freshman the year before, I expected him to punch me just as much talk to me.

Surprisingly, the handwriting on the paper was anything but a Neanderthal cave scratching. It was in loopy, almost feminine, cursive. I checked the address again before going up to the stately manner in the good side of town to make sure I hadn't made a mistake. It was 3:55 PM and my heart was racing. What Tony Fox had to talk to me about... and not in school or with his fists... had me positively perplexed.

When he opened the door he didn't say a word. He just left the door open and walked back inside. I followed. I half expected him to turn around and be surprised that I was there. But he didn't turn. He just continued to walk with complete confidence that I was behind him. We went through a series of doors, down some stairs, and into what could only be described as a "rec room". Brown paneling, a pool and dart tables, beer lights and other accoutrement that just screamed "Americana!"

Tony pointed to a chair and I went over to sit. He turned and walked close to me, staring down at me, keeping me completely off guard. "Here it comes..." I thought, expecting a sock to the nose for discretions unknown.

"I know about the hardware store," he said plainly. For as calm as he was I was suddenly flushed with fear. I had been working at a hardware store for the last few months and in a fit of anger over the owner's distant relative being promoted over me, I liberated a rather expensive pocket calculator from the premises. How could Tony know about this? What was he going to do? Did this mean I'd get fired? My spine turned to ice.

He read the deluge of emotions that washed my face and smiled a Cheshire grin. "I'll keep my mouth shut, if you do some things for me."

Homework? Wash his car? Pick out his clothes? Whatever it was, the humiliation of being fired or even simply accused at work and the rumors that would fly around school were too much. Anything he required was acceptable.

"S-s-sure," I stammered. "Whatever you'd like, Tony, if we can just keep this between you and me."

"It's pretty simple. I just want you to take off your clothes and put on this outfit," he said with a wry grin, indicating a blouse and skirt that were laid out on the couch next to him. Were they here all the time? I realized that I hadn't taken my eyes away from him since I sat down. Looking up at him, the glare of the fluorescent lights behind him and partially masking his face in silhouette, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Could I do both? I really should do neither. I really should just do what he wants me to do. Why does he want me to do this? Is he gay? Would I be if I did this? How does this relate to the calculator? Will he really keep quiet? What happens after I put on those clothes? Have I already decided that I'm going to do it? I must have, my hands are unbuttoning my shirt. I'm standing up. He's back now and giving me room. Sitting down on a barstool and taking me in. Fuck. He probably sees naked guys all the time in the showers. He is a football player. Wait, he's not gay, he's got a girlfriend. I've seen him with Laura, the cheerleader. But why do this? This blouse feels cold against me. Is it the material? What is this material? I didn't look at the tag. I hope it fits. Why? Fuck.

Okay, part one is done... shirt's off, blouse on... Should I turn around while I take my pants off? Does he want my socks off too? Okay, socks off. If I turn around I'm showing my ass. If not I'm showing my cock. I've never let anyone see me naked before. Maybe this blouse will cover me up. How about I just follow my pants to the ground here and put the skirt next to it and try to just hope over so he can't see anything below the waist? Okay, I'll try... Fuck. This is more difficult than I thought. Okay.... pull up the skirt quick. Get it up and get it buttoned. This stuff fits better than it should. Did he know my size? Whose clothes are they? Laura's? His sister's? His mom's? This is just wrong. What the hell am I doing here? What is that he's got?

The light of a thousand suns crisped my eyes. At least that's how it felt. It was only a simple flash bulb from a camera but the shock of it and the implications left me stunned. Tony shook the resultant Polaroid and admired the image that shone through the fuzz of chemicals. "Very nice. I figured a prick like you had done something wrong at work. I don't care what it is. I just wanted to get this," he said, holding up the picture. "Let's call it 'insurance.'"

He snapped another picture of me and I felt a tear run down my cheek. "Don't cry, little girl," he said mockingly. He walked closer, snapping another photo, throwing he Polaroids randomly around the room as if to make them impossible to pick up if I tried to grab them all and run. Each flash brought more heat and more tears to my cheeks. I couldn't believe that I was crying... or that I was here in a skirt and blouse. What nightmare was this? Would I awake soon?

He grabbed my chin in his meaty hand and lifted my head up, making me look once again into his eyes. I saw something there that I had never seen before and it terrified me. If I had to put a name to it, I could only call it "lust."

"How many pictures did I just take of you?" He demanded to know. I shook my head and admitted that I had lost count. "That's right," he said, "You don't know. You'll never know if I've destroyed them all or have kept some to show around. All you can do is hope. Hope and agree to do whatever I tell you to do. Is that understood?"

I faltered and he asked again, "Is that understood?"

"Y-y-yes... It's understood," I said, admitting defeat.

"Good..." he said and chuckled. I had never heard Tony chuckle before and the sound was one I didn't want to hear again any time soon. It had a malicious tinge to it that bespoke of horrors I couldn't begin to contemplate. "Lift up your skirt," he said, sitting back down again.

I put my hands to the hem of the skirt and raised the material. It was then that I realized that I could see myself clearly in the mirrors behind his family's well-stocked bar. I was looking at myself looking at myself, the back of Tony's head also reflected in the expanse. What I couldn't believe -- I had to look down to confirm it -- is that my cock was completely engorged as if it had a mind of its own and found this whole situation to be a turn-on.

"That's what I thought I'd see... you little faggot," Tony said with slight derision. He snapped another photo and discarded the picture behind the couch to my right. He got up and sat on this couch and snapped yet another photo. My skirt was still up, I clutched that material in my hands, almost wringing it in embarrassment.

He leaned over and picked up a remote, turning on some music, and pushing the small table in front of him to the side, clearing the way. "Get over here and face me."

I turned and stepped forward, my skirt still up. He smiled. "From now on," he said, "I fucking own you. Every day after school you're going to come over here and you're going to put on what I tell you to put on or do anything else I tell you to do. Otherwise, those pictures are going to be plastered all over the place. You got it?"

"Yes..."

"Good... Now get down on your knees in front of me."

More than a command, this was almost a relief as my knees felt like jelly. I practically collapsed between his spread knees. However, in my heart I knew what was coming next and I didn't know if I could take it.

Tony undid the button on his jeans and unzipped his pants. For as tall and broad as he was, the lump under his underwear didn't betray his size. He unleashed this beast and I gulped at the size of it. "Come over here... closer... and kiss my cock."

I closed my eyes and leaned forward, kissing his cock like my girlfriend's hand. I kissed it softly, amazed at how tender the flesh felt. I felt his hands cupping my ears and pulling me down. Without a choice, I opened my mouth and let him enter me. He pulled me down and down and down... the flesh of his cock entering me deeply. I kept my mouth closed, not wanting to admit that I was doing this.

I couldn't see anything, but I could hear a small moan escape from his lips as my tongue swirled along the underside of his cock. He pulled me back up and pushed me back down. I was glad he didn't try to pull me all the way down to take him all in -- perhaps Laura had taught him that his cock was simply too large for that. He began fucking himself with my mouth... up and down I went, being pulled and pushed by the ears. My hands rested on his thighs.

Faster and faster I went until, unexpectedly, he moaned loudly and filled my mouth with what seemed like an endless stream of hot, salty semen. I gulped this down, trying to get the taste out of my mouth as soon as I could. He pulled me down again and I sucked out the rest of his cum like I was sucking snake venom out of a wound.

He pulled me off of him and did up his pants in a hurry. He used his remote control again to turn off the music and turn on the TV set. There, on the set, was a framed close up of me with Tony's cock deep in my mouth being pulled up and down; an instant replay of the last fifteen minutes.

The taste of his cum still fresh in my mouth, Tony went over to the TV to pop out the VHS tape of my escapades and said, "In case the photos weren't enough motivation."

He left the room as I started changing back into my school clothes and I found my way out of his house, closing the front door behind me. It wasn't until the next day at school when I saw the grin on his face in Advanced Algebra class that I began to really believe that all of this had truly happened to me... and would again in just a few short hours.

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