Summary: Straight football bully blackmailed and bent over.

Thanks to: Tex Beethoven, Robert, thor_p, and Wayne for editing.

Bully Stories: Faggot Fucks Me...

This faggot deserved all the public humiliation he endured at our hands. I mean the guy dressed constantly in pink, his wrist was so bent he wouldn't be able to catch a basketball if his life depended on it and his voice was so high-pitched we all figured he had a cunt.

I'd picked on him as far back as I could remember; he was just a weird, skinny, uncoordinated loser who didn't remotely fit into a southern Texas town where football was the true gospel. And his parents hadn't helped any either by naming him Cecil. But mostly he brought the constant teasing, bullying and ridicule on himself. He didn't seem to care what others thought and that only pissed me off even more. What right did a beanpole nerd fag like him have to strut around acting superior? I literally wanted to beat him straight.

It never worked, though. Once I'd finished beating on him (careful not to leave any telltale marks), he'd just look down his nose at me as if asking, "are you finished, because that was stupid and boring," and saunter away as if he'd put me in my place.

The ultimate irony is that he would end up turning me gay.

I should note before I was turned and became a complete submissive faggot, I was the most respected and popular guy in school. I was the star linebacker of our team, had already been offered a dozen scholarships to some of the top football college programs in the country and was dating the hottest girl and head cheerleader in the school (yes it was a cliché, but it was true... it's just the nature of evolution that the best-looking people normally end up together).

Lastly, although I was a great English student, strong in history and decent in the sciences, I really struggled in math. That particularly embarrassed me because my coach doubled as a math teacher, and he stressed that I needed at least a sixty to get the top scholarships and I was at a forty-seven at midterm, not even passing, never mind a sixty. He suggested a tutor and set me up with his brightest math student, Cecil.

Coach, who believed in academics as much as he did football, wasn't someone you argued with. It was his way or the highway, he had the balls to enforce it, and that was how I ended up at the faggot's house on a Saturday afternoon...still hungover after our big semi-final victory in district playoffs 36-13. I was hardly in the mood to be doing schoolwork, particularly with a faggot like Cecil.

The guys even gave me a hard time when I made the mistake of telling them I was being tutored by Cecil. "Better keep your ass cheeks clenched," "Don't bend over," and "Don't fall in love," were all thrown my way. I took it in stride because I was a man's man and could take the ribbing, just like I usually gave it.

It was our quarterback, Damon, who warned me with no sign of joking, "Be careful around him."

I asked what he meant and he just repeated, "I'm just saying, be very careful."

He walked away without explanation. I thought he might have been blushing, but that would be impossible. Damon never got uptight about anything.

I met Cecil's parents when I arrived, and they seemed pretty normal, his mom was surprisingly hot. Hard to believe two normal, good looking people could have reared such a flaming homo.

The study session went surprisingly well. Cecil was very patient and had a crazy ability to show me more than one way to look at a problem. His mom actually baked us cookies and brought us soft drinks. I have to admit his mom, who insisted I call her Shelly, had one of the nicest asses I had ever seen.

I was putting my books back in my backpack when I stumbled and spilt all the contents on the floor. I quickly grabbed up my stuff and put it back in my bag.

Cecil asked, surprising me, just as I was about to leave, "Why are you so afraid of me?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, the question ludicrous. I could absolutely break him in two without even raising a sweat.

"Psychological research demonstrates rather clearly that people who bully others do so because they are either afraid they will become them, or they are insecure about their true sexuality."

"Are you calling me a faggot?" I asked, anger bubbling inside me instantly.

"No, but it is interesting that's the first thing that popped into your head," he observed pedantically, his smug smile so much more confident and brave in his own home.

"You better watch your mouth or I'll shut it permanently," I threatened.

"Textbook response," he said. "You don't respond to the point, but attempt to intimidate me."

"I'm warning you," I said, my fists clenched.

"Do you think bullying me makes you more of a man?" he questioned.

I scoffed, "It's about maintaining the hierarchy."

"And what hierarchy is that?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Do I?" He asked. "I see the hierarchy quite differently."

"How so?"

"You see it based strictly on looks and athletic prowess. Thus you play a Neanderthal game promulgated by morons with limited intellectual ability and where ninety-five percent of the alleged winners peak in high school."

"Are you calling football players stupid?" I bristled, even though I knew he had a point. Only a few of the players on the team were strong academically, but who cares, because high school grades don't matter.

"Most of them, yes," he nodded. "Plus, at least ten percent of them are gay and another twenty percent are bi and yet another thirty are bi-curious. That adds up to more than half."

"You've obviously taken too many cocks up the ass to think straight," I shot back, uncomfortably aware he was probably citing well-researched facts, and I was still responding with nothing more than insults.

He shrugged, "I've actually never taken anything up my ass."

"Bullshit."

"I'm not even gay."

"Yeah, right."

"But I do like to fuck guys."

"That's the definition of gay," I pointed out, bewildered by this conversation.

"No, getting ass fucked by a guy or eagerly sucking his cock makes you gay," he countered.

"Which makes you gay," I said.

"No, it makes four members of your team gay," he corrected.

"Bullshit."

"Soon to be five."

"I don't think I like what you're implying," I said, clenching my fist.

He shrugged, "At first neither did the others, but once they were on their knees bobbing on my cock, or bent over taking it in their ass, they realized their true nature."

"I'm going to bust your face in next time I see you!" I threatened, meaning it as I stalked out of his room, furious.

"You'll be back, steroid boy," he called out as I left.

I froze. How could he know I was doing steroids? Yet, too angry to deal with him now I stormed out of the house and off to the gym to work out.

It was after my workout when I went to my backpack and I realized my pills were gone. I then recalled dropping my bag on the floor in the faggot's room.

Shit!

Did he have my pills?

I went directly to his house, but he wasn't home and his mom wasn't sure where he'd gone.

I was frustrated and worried: this could end my scholarships and even make me ineligible for next week's championship game!

I went home to shower and figure out how I was going to deal with this. Was the faggot going to blackmail me? Was that why he was so fucking smug? He sure as hell hadn't been that smug at school.

Then I wondered about the supposed other four players he'd implied he'd fucked. I went through each player on the team and couldn't come up with one, never mind four, that could possibly be gay.

Was the faggot blackmailing some others too?

I was going to kill this queer!

I called Damon, wanting to question him about yesterday's warning.

Again no answer.

A few minutes later, as I watched sports news about tomorrow's NFL games, I decided to drive over to Damon's. He was notorious for losing his cell. The new iPhone he had was his fifth in three years.

I got there and knocked on the door. Again no answer, even though his car was in the driveway.

The fucker was probably already sleeping. I turned the door handle and opened it. I called out, "Hello," but no one answered. I took off my shoes since his mother was a neat freak and headed downstairs to his bedroom.

As I reached his door, I heard Damon's voice and I froze.

"Yes, fuck my ass with that big dick," Damon demanded, sounding desperate and whimpering just like a schoolgirl slut.

There was no way Cecil was over here, was there?

No way Cecil was fucking Damon, was there?

Both these questions were answered when I heard the pipsqueak's voice, sounding way tougher than he ever had, "How much do you love being my two hole cum bucket, Mr. high and mighty quarterback?"

"I love it," Damon answered convincingly.

Was Cecil blackmailing Damon? I had to do something about this. I had to save Damon and I had to stop the faggot before he tried to do that to me.

I stormed into the room and shouted, "What the hell is going on here?"

Panicked, Damon went to move, but Cecil ordered, "Keep bouncing on my dick, quarterback."

To my surprise Damon obeyed, remaining on his hands and knees and fucking himself back onto another guy while I was in the room.

"Dude, stop that," I said, unable to fathom how this queer had gotten our star quarterback, who was dating a hot college girl, to obey him.

"I can't," he moaned, like a girl, as he kept fucking himself, his hard dick swaying all over the place.

"I'm going to rip you a new one!" I threatened, walking over to the faggot.

"Interesting choice of words," Cecil smirked, not seeming remotely scared of me.

"Graham, stop being an asshole," Damon ordered, another interesting choice of words as I reached the two faggots.

"Right back atcha, steroid boy," Cecil replied. "We'd hate for the truth that you're a cheater to come out just before the big game."

I froze. My worst fears were true... the faggot knew.

"So you have two choices," Cecil continued.

"Actually, if I beat you up bad enough you won't be able to speak," I countered.

"Oh my God," Damon groaned, urgently riding on the cock.

I looked down and saw him coming all over the floor from getting ass fucked, some even landing on my toes, since I was wearing flip flops.

"That is so sick," I said, disgust compounding disgust as I shied away.

"Lick it up," Cecil ordered.

"Excuse me?"

"Lick... it... up," Cecil repeated speaking slowly, mocking me.

"You're dead meat," I said, taking a swing, connecting right in the jaw and knocking him down on his side, his cock sliding out of my faggot quarterback.

"Dude, stop," Damon said, quickly up on his feet and grabbing me.

"Get off me, faggot," I said, pushing Damon off me, his dick touching me. I turned to Cecil, on the floor, and threatened, "You say a word and I'll fucking destroy you."

Cecil laughed, standing up, "Actually, if you don't drop to your knees and suck my cock, the truth of your steroid use goes viral."

Damon grabbed my arm as I was about to punch the faggot again. "Dude, get a grip; he means it."

"Not if I kill the fucker," I said.

"I've already sent the picture of the steroids to a friend and he will release the info if I end up beaten or dead," the smug faggot countered. "The label shows clearly what they are and that they were prescribed to you by that so-called sports doctor in the next town."

"You're career will be over," Damon said, still holding onto my arm.

"So you want me to suck your dick to keep your mouth shut?" I asked, fuming, but realizing my predicament was quickly spinning out of my control.

"No, sucking my dick is to keep your mouth shut while I explain how things are going to work from now on," he said smugly.

"You little prick," I said, pissed off.

"I'm a lot of things but little prick isn't one of them," he smirked, as he grabbed his dick. I looked down and my mouth dropped open... It was huge! It looked ridiculously out of place on a skinny queer like him.

"Whatever, big dick, small dick, you're still a faggot," I accused.

"And you're about to become one," he said. "Now get on your knees and suck my cock or I'm revealing you're a steroid-using cheater and ending your college football career before it begins."

Trying to cool down, I asked, frustrated by my predicament, trying to assess the damage, "So if I suck your dick once, you'll end this blackmail bullshit."

"No," he said. "I plan to fuck you too."

"No way," I said.

"That's what Damon said at first and now he calls me over and begs me to fuck him," he said, before adding, "isn't that right, quarterback?"

"Yes, sir," Damon admitted sheepishly.

"You called him on your own accord to come over to fuck you?" I asked, this more shocking than what I'd witnessed. Being blackmailed is one thing, willingly taking it in the ass from a faggot definitely makes you a faggot.

"Yes," Damon nodded.

"Why?" I asked.

"It's all I think about now," Damon admitted.

"Once you go gay, you never go away," Cecil added.

"That's ludicrous," I said, angry and confused now.

"Maybe, but that's been my experience," Cecil shrugged. "Now enough generic bullshit conversation. Knees, Graham."

"Do it, he's not bluffing," Damon warned.

I was pissed at Damon and at the faggot... and at myself for being so careless.

I then recalled his dick had just been in Damon's ass. I protested, "Wait! Your dick was just in his ass."

"Fair enough," Cecil nodded, snapping his fingers and pointing to his dick.

Instantly our all-star quarterback dropped to his knees and took the big dick in his mouth.

"He's just a faggot to me now," I insisted, disgusted as I watched Damon bobbing on the cock furiously, way more eager than any chick I'd ever gotten to suck me.

"In that case you're about to become a faggot too," he countered, as he pulled his dick out of Damon's mouth and aimed it at me.

I couldn't believe how big it was. Easily eight plus inches... a good three inches longer than mine.

I couldn't believe I was expected to suck cock.

"Knees, now," Cecil ordered.

I glared at him, but knew I was fucked and then realized the irony of my thought.

"Just one time," I repeated, as I lowered myself to my knees in front of him... my stomach churning.

He shook his head, "I get your ass too."

"No way," I protested.

"This isn't a negotiation," he replied. "The terms are that you do exactly as I say or I reveal you're a cheater. One or the other."

"This is blackmail," I accused.

"Yep," he agreed, "now get sucking."

"Fuck!" I cursed, trying to think of a way out of this even as I grabbed his cock with my left hand.

"Agreed. Soon," he smugly responded.

I stroked it, hoping he would come quickly this way.

"You're just delaying the inevitable," he said.

"Can't I just jerk you off?" I asked.

"I have lots of guys dying to suck this cock," he said. "I don't need to settle for being jerked off."

"Come on, I'm not gay," I pleaded one more time.

"I didn't say you were," he said, before adding, "now suck me wet and sloppy or the evidence of your cheating goes public."

"Fuck!" I cursed, wanting to just beat him until he couldn't actually talk, yet I believed his threat and my future was in his hands... or in this case, his dick.

"Maybe," he replied.

I stared at his dick, still shocked such a scrawny loser could be packing such a big one. God had a twisted sense of humour. I took a deep breath, opened my mouth and, after one last pause, a last hope he wouldn't make me do this, I leaned forward and took his cock between my lips.

"There you go," he confidently said, which pissed me off again, but I was helpless to do anything about it, even as it felt so weird to have his dick in my mouth. The damn thing was throbbing!

It was awkward, but I began slowly bobbing.

To my surprise, as soon as I began to move I found it wasn't as disgusting as I'd thought.

"Oh yeah, you're a natural," he approved, wanting to see how far he could push me, which since I had his dick in my mouth was pretty fucking far. "What do you think, Damon?"

"Yeah, he's a natural born faggot," Damon answered, this somehow pissing me off even more. I wasn't a faggot. I was being blackmailed. I wasn't fucking enjoying this.

I pulled back and said as much, "I'm no fucking faggot like you."

"Did I ask your fucking opinion?" Cecil asked, actually slapping my face with his dick.

"No, but..." I began, but he interrupted by shoving his cock back into my mouth.

"Get back to sucking, cock sucker," he ordered, that term another derogatory one that continued to have my anger brimming at the surface.

Yet I obeyed as I resumed sucking, although this time faster in hopes of getting this over with as soon as possible.

For a couple of minutes I sucked. At first I didn't take more than half his dick in, but slowly I took more.

He then pulled out and ordered, "Tell me you want my cock."

"What?" I asked.

"Beg for my cock," he repeated.

"Are you serious?" I asked, even though I kind of wanted his cock back in my mouth. This worried me. It was one thing to be forced to suck dick, it was another to like it. I pushed that thought out of my mind as I glared at him, a glare that hadn't worked for years on the supercilious twink.

He laughed, "Your glare has never scared me; I was biding my time. Now beg or else."

I sighed and then said all sing-song, "Please give me your cock."

"Make it believable, cock sucker," he ordered, again slapping my face with his hard dick. It didn't hurt, but it was fucking humiliating.

Again hoping I would get this over with sooner, the disgrace unbearable, "Please, let me suck your big, hard, juicy cock."

Had I just said juicy?

"Tell me you love my cock," he continued, as he slid his cock in my mouth and pumped three times before pulling out.

"Yes, dammit, I love your big dick in my mouth," I said, wanting his cock back in. Not because I wanted to suck him, but because he was blackmailing me.

"Because you're a cock sucker," he said, as he shoved his cock back into my mouth and began face fucking me, his entire cock filling my mouth and throat and making me gag. "Say it, tell me you're a cock sucker."

As saliva drooled out of my mouth, I responded quickly before I even realized I had, "I'm a cock sucker."

He pushed his cock back into my mouth for a few more quick pumps as I tried to process my reactions. I wasn't enjoying this!!

He pulled back out and I said, trying to regain control, "Just fucking come."

He responded, "Tell you what, I'll quit right now and never tell a soul."

"Really?" I asked, praying this wasn't a game.

"Sure, if you're not enjoying this, we'll quit right now," he said.

"I'm definitely not enjoying this," I quickly said, seeing a way out.

"But if you are enjoying it, I get to fuck your ass," he continued.

I agreed. "Sure, but since I'm not enjoying it, that will never happen."

"Stand up," he said.

I did, happy to be off my knees, thinking I may be able to get out of this yet.

He then said, after a moment, "See? You really are a cock sucker."

"Excuse me?"

"You're enjoying it."

"No, I'm not," I said adamantly.

"Then why are you so hard?" he asked, looking pointedly at my crotch.

Until then I hadn't realized I was hard, but there was no doubt I was rock hard and wishing I hadn't worn sweats which couldn't conceal my bulge. I stammered, rattled, "I-I-I'm always hard."
"Only cock suckers and faggots get hard from sucking dick," he opined, a big smirk on his face.

"I'm neither of those," I protested, getting angry again. Partly at the name calling and partly at myself for being hard. Why was I hard?

"You declared you were a cock sucker already," he reminded me.

"Because you made me."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"Play it back, Damon," Cecil ordered.

I turned and saw that Damon had his phone aimed at me. How long had he been filming this?

Rage again bubbled inside me.

"I'm going to fucking kill you," I said, moving to Damon.

Cecil interrupted, "The entire thing is already going live to the cloud, so if you touch him the video goes viral."

"Then you get outed too," I pointed out, my fists clenched, but realizing I was again screwed.

"My voice yes, my cock yes, but Damon knows only to film your face and nobody else's," he revealed.

"Fuck you," I said, out of anger and frustration.

"Actually it's vice versa," he smirked again. "Get undressed."

"That is not happening," I said firmly.

He shrugged, "Your choice. Get undressed, bend over and take it in your ass or Damon presses Post and your cock sucking debut goes online for the world to see, as well as your cheating."

Fucked again; literally it seemed. I begged, "Please man, I'll do anything."

"I know you will," he said. "Now pull down those sweats and bend over. Do it now and I'll use lube; waste any more of my time and I'm going to tear your ass apart the old school way."

Knowing I was fucked, and about to be fucked, I pulled down my sweats, and my jock strap, and moved to the bed and got on all fours, even as I said, grasping at straws, "This is really fucked up, raping another guy."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Cecil said. "I'm not raping you. Sure I'm blackmailing you, but you have choices."

"Do I?" I said, on all fours in a position I never thought I'd be in.

"Sure, beg me to fuck your ass or leave and wait for the fallout of your cheating," he said as Damon handed him a bottle that I assumed was lube. "The choice is completely yours."

"Just get it over with," I sighed, knowing there was no way he wasn't going to follow through and it was better to accept the inevitable than have my scholarship and future completely sabotaged. It was a terrible option, but it was the only option.

"No, no, no," he shook his head even as he lubed his cock. "Since you accused me of a heinous crime, you must beg for me to fuck your ass while Damon films it to ensure you won't ever accuse me of rape."

"Whatever," I sighed, "Just fuck me."

"You can do better than that," he said, "convince me," as he got onto the bed and moved behind me which made me instinctively tighten my ass cheeks.

I looked up at the phone Damon was holding and his cock, which was hard again (was he getting turned on watching me? Gross!) and then said, "Please fuck my ass."

"You want to be my faggot, Graham?" he asked, as he rubbed his cock up and down my ass cheeks.

Knowing I would eventually have to say yes and just wanting this humiliation over with I answered, "Yes, I want you to fuck my ass and to become your faggot."

"Because you love big nerd cock, don't you?" he asked, continuing to pile it on just like I usually did when I bullied him, a sudden guilt hitting me at the consequences of my actions (not just what was about to happen to me, but a realization of what being bullied must feel like).

"Sorry," I said.

"What?" he asked, surprised, his cock now at my asshole.

"I finally understand what it feels like to be you," I admitted.

"What does that mean?" he asked, even as he pushed forward and after a brief last-minute resistance by my ass, his cock invaded me.

"Oh God!" I whimpered, an intense pain hitting me as the strange feeling of something going in instead of out hit me.

"Faggots always praise the Lord when they finally accept who they are," he bragged ludicrously, as his cock kept going deeper into me.

I looked up at Damon, in bewilderment and pain, "How could you like this?"

He actually laughed, "Oh, wait a couple minutes and you'll be moaning a different tune."

"No pain, no gain," Cecil said from behind me, quoting my most-used statement. One I used on the field, in the gym and when I bullied. Irony can be a bitch.

"Fuck," I grunted, trying to be manly, as manly as one can be with a dick in their ass. I didn't want him to know how much pain I was in. Oddly, I wanted to prove I could take it, that he couldn't beat me.

"That's the plan," he said, as his cock just keeping going deeper. Fuck, he was big.

"Just give me all you got," I said. "I can take it."

"I know you can and you will," he said, as he put his hands on his hips and started slowly fucking me.

The pain didn't go away, but it didn't intensify any more either. And no way could I explain what it felt like to have a dick in my ass even though so many words came to mind: humiliated, weird, burn, anger and frustration were all there, but as my ass got used to having something in it, some other feelings emerged. Feelings I couldn't process.

It began to feel good.

I mean really good!

I mean pleasure in my ass going straight through my body and directly to my cock, which I suddenly realized was throbbing.

What the fuck?

I moaned, "Oh fuck," but the moan was one of pleasure and not pain.

Cecil noticed and said, "Your true, natural, inner faggot is coming out, Graham."

"Nooooo," I whined, even as the pleasure began to take control.

"Oh yeah, faggot," the confident nerd continued, "you're beginning to feel the pleasure that comes from being a two-hole fuck toy. You're realizing that taking a cock in your cock sucking mouth and faggot asshole is what you were always meant to do."

"Bullshit," I responded, annoyed, even though I couldn't deny the pleasure was strange and growing increasingly pleasurable. It was so different from getting head or fucking a chick; even though I was still feeling pleasure in my cock, my entire body seemed to be on pleasure overload.

He fucked me harder; the pleasure increased; my moans got higher pitched.

Suddenly he pulled out. I didn't even know I was speaking until the words spewed out, as I turned to him and begged like a bitch in heat, "Please don't stop, shove that big dick back in me!"

"But you said you weren't a faggot," he reminded me.

"Dammit, I'm your faggot," I declared, still not believing the words tumbling out of my mouth. I didn't want to be his faggot, or anyone's faggot, but I did want that cock back inside me.

"How badly do you love my cock?" he asked, as he slid it back in me.

I moaned loud, giving in to the pleasure, "I fucking love your dick in my faggot ass."

"Look into the camera and declare to everyone what you are," he ordered, stopping with his dick buried in me balls deep.

I hated the humiliation; I hated the video evidence I assumed could be used against me in the future; and I hated the pleasure I was getting from getting ass fucked.

But man did I love getting ass fucked.

Oddly the name calling, the humiliation, seemed to be enhancing the pleasure.

So I looked into the camera, my masculine demeanour gone, as I began to bounce back willingly on his dick, taking matters in my own asshole so to speak, fucking myself, and declared, "I'm a cock sucking, big nerd dick-taking faggot."

"Would you rather have my dick in your jock asshole or your dick in Sarah Marsh?" he asked, as he grabbed my hips and stopped me from fucking myself.

I had never felt the pleasure I was feeling now, not even when my hot cheerleader girlfriend sucked my dick or rode me, so I admitted, "I'd much rather take your big dick in my asshole and be pounded like a slut faggot than fuck my girlfriend."

"Good girl," he said, adding a new derogatory term before he added, "Now fuck yourself like the fuck toy faggot you are."

"Yes, sir," I said, unsure why I called him sir.

He chuckled, "You're the biggest submissive faggot on your team, Graham. Damon, come give him something to eat."

A moment later, Damon's dick was in my mouth and I was rocking back and forth like a rocking horse in heat.

It was humiliating.

It was life changing.

It was who I now was.

For a good ten minutes there was no talking.

Just me sucking cock.

Just me getting fucked.

Just my cock throbbing for release.

Just moaning in three-part dissonance.

Then Cecil grunted and said, "Get ready for a big load up your cunt."

Damon added, "And another down your throat."

And almost simultaneously, I felt cum shooting into me from both ends.

Damon's cum shooting down my throat felt hot, the taste almost non-existent.

Cecil's cum load in my ass felt weird and my ass suddenly felt completely full, which triggered a third load spewing as my cock twitched and shot my most intense orgasm in my life all over the bed.

When Cecil pulled out, he said, "Only true faggots come from getting ass fucked."

And as I remained on all fours, cum leaking out of my ass, cum dripping out of my cock and Damon's cock still slowly moving in my cum-tasting mouth I had to admit, as I was already missing his cock in my ass, I was indeed a true faggot.

THE END