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I was always one of the small guys. After I started puberty in seventh grade, I was taller than a few for a while, but that didn't last. By high school I was again among the smallest in my class. The other guys my height didn't even have pubes yet. Not only was I small, I was smart, and I liked gaming and comics, and not sports. So I got picked on a lot.

Maybe the worst was Marty. He was small, like me, so I was about the only guy he could pick on besides the other guys who were small. Marty and I were the only ones our size that had pubes and such. I hated being picked on, but being shoved around by a guy my own height was by far the worst.

Marty was in my gym class, so he bullied me in the showers too. I didn't really understand him at all. There we were, the same height and build, and we could have been friends, except his friends were pot-heads and bullies and such. He wasn't particularly liked even among his friends, and I'd seen him being shoved around by some of them. He was the low man on that totem pole, and was probably only put up with by them because he bullied us smaller guys.

My friends were fellow geeks and dorks and gaming nerds, so I had company, but even some of them didn't understand why I didn't push back against Marty. He wasn't stronger than me, or not by much anyway, but I just wasn't the fighting type - I was a lover. Really. By ninth grade I had sucked cocks, been sucked, and even been fucked a couple times by more than one friend. I had good friends, some of them, and most were willing to 'experiment' a little. None of them were gay - at least none of them wanted to hug or cuddle or kiss. They'd just mess around some.

By the end of ninth grade, I was almost fifteen, and still small - about as tall as most middle-school kids. I knew I was gay, so I had that to worry about too. But at least I had good grades. I loved science and reading. Hated math - all math - but I studied hard, and a couple of my friends gave me extra tutoring in exchange for a blow-job or a hand-job or letting them fuck me, so I got good grades in that too.

One day after school, I was walking to the hobby store, and ran into Marty and two of his friends. I should say, I ran into Bruce, Damon, and Marty. Bruce and Damon were at least average if not taller, and Marty was kind of their mascot. They treated him okay, but not like they were good friends. He was a kind of hanger-on. I wondered if he even knew that or not.

So, there they were, coming down the block, and I had barely enough time to avoid them. I followed them for a while, and learned quite a bit about their social dynamic. Bruce and Damon talked to each other and Marty sort of just walked along with them. Marty wasn't an outcast, but he wasn't exactly 'in' either. It was interesting.

After that day, I watched Marty and his interactions with his friends. It became more and more obvious that he was only tolerated because he was 'like them' in that he was a social psychopath. He got his points and his jollies by pushing guys around. He was limited in his targets, however. There were only a half-dozen or so of us small enough for Marty to dominate, and the smaller guys in the lower grades.

After a few weeks, I got to know Marty and his position pretty well. And I began to think of ways to take control of my situation. One idea fascinated me a great deal. Well, one possible plan did.

I knew Marty and his friends weren't jocks, and were into partying and drugs. Heavily. Pot, coke, X, and alcohol. I began haunting their parties. Usually they picked someone's house when their parents were going to be away, and if that wasn't possible, they went to the forest preserves. It was pretty easy to peek in windows of their houses. Especially Brandon's basement windows. The parties in the woods were harder to spy on, but I usually managed.

Just after Easter break, I got my break.

Marty swiped a moped and crashed it. He was high, stoned, and drunk. And he broke an ankle and a wrist, as well as scraped up his face, knees and elbows. He spent almost a week in juvie, and then had to stay at home after school every day until his trial. He got six months probation and home detention. He had to wear an ankle bracelet with GPS, and got home checks once a week. His folks didn't allow his friends to visit. He was dry and straight.

I'd spied on Marty enough to know his parents went out on Sundays. His friends usually came over and they partied hard. But now his parents had their neighbors watching his house on Sundays, and had already called his parents when they tried to party the first Sunday he was back home. He was so screwed. His friends didn't even talk about going to visit him. They hardly cared. They even talked about how they didn't care, or care about him, that he was only a friend because they could party in his garage on Sundays. None of them had seen him outside of school since he'd stolen the moped and wrecked it.

This was my chance.

My grandparents took a lot of meds. They were in pretty bad shape, and had excellent insurance. Some of their meds were worth a lot on the streets. And being the brain I am, I knew what ones were for what, and what they did. It was really easy to get the ones I wanted to give Marty. I swiped a few things from his friends when they partied in Brandon's basement and had passed out: a partial bottle of Jack Daniels, six beers, a few joints, and some ecstasy. I spent a couple of hours every day just before bed smoking the pot, so I knew what it was like and wouldn't be surprised or taken unawares by it.

On Sunday, I told my friends I was doing something with a cousin, and told my folks I was doing something with my friends. I was a good boy, so I was believed all around. I packed my overnight bag with handcuffs, bungee cords, and a box knife.

I waited outside his house until his folks left, my guts churning. I really didn't know if I could go through with it or not. Once they drove down the block, I walked around the corner of the park and up the sidewalk to his front door.  I knocked on the door. The old lady neighbor opened her door and yelled... "Hey, son, he's not to have any visitors!"

"Hello," I called back. "I'm here to help Marty with his school work."

"Oh? His parents didn't say anything about that," she said, wearing a suspicious expression.

"Yeah, he probably forgot to tell them. Or didn't want to. He's probably not all that thrilled about a dork helping him. He probably don't want me to either. Just forget it."

I turned around and took one step before she stopped me.

"Now, just wait a minute," she said gently. "If you're here to help him with his school work, then I think you should go right ahead."

"Oh," I said, sounding as unhappy about it as I could.

She came out with a key and let me in.

"You just let me know if you boys need anything. Marty has my phone number," she told me, holding the door open for me.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, giving her a nice smile and a nod.

She smiled back and closed the door. I was so nervous! I was sweating and shaking.

"Who's there?" Marty called from down the hallway.

"It's your tutor," I called back, loudly enough that I hoped the old lady heard.

Then I turned to the door and quietly slid the bolt home, so that she or someone else couldn't get in even with the key.

"Who?" he called.

I walked to the kitchen, and made sure the back door was bolted too, and made sure the patio doors had the stick in place. My heart was hammering.

"It's your tutor," I called out again.

I opened my backpack and got out a can of beer. I opened it and added some of the crushed-up pills.

"Who the fuck?" he called.

I heard him moving around. I shouldered the pack and picked up the beer, then walked down the hallway. He came out of his bedroom door just as I started down the hall. He stopped and stared.

"What he fuck are you doing here?" he asked, looking as shocked as I'd ever seen him.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off sweatpants. He was on two crutches. His right wrist and ankle were in casts, he had bandages on his elbows and knees, and his face was a bit scrapped up on his left side.

"Your tutor," I said, walking toward him. "I'm here to teach you a few things."

Man, was I really going to go through with this? He couldn't very well beat on me in his condition, but so many things could go wrong. The meds might cause a bad reaction, or he could still whack me with his crutches, or a hundred other things. I felt like I was robbing a bank!

"What the fuck are you talking about, dick-head?" he said, looking at me like he wanted to hit me, as usual.

"I'm here to help you out, doofus. So, I can stick around, and you have this beer, or I can leave, and you sit here alone and shit."

I held the beer toward him, smiling. He looked at me for a few seconds. It was a real tense few seconds. He could hit me with his crutches, yell for the old lady, or anything.

"Fine," he said, a bit suspicious.

He turned and hobbled into his room. I followed him. Once he was sitting on his bed, I handed him the beer. He drank about half of it at once.

Then he asked, "So what are you doing here?"

"I figured you could use some company," I said, sitting on the end of his bed.

"Yeah, right. Just what I need. A dork and his homework," he sneered.

"Well, I could leave, and take the rest of these beers with me. And the joints," I said, taking one of the joints out of the side pocket.

"Holy shit!" he said, now grinning. "You get high?"

"Sure. Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I'm a total square."

We shared the joint, and I found out what meds he was taking - nothing that would be a problem, and would only make this easier. The television was playing a good movie, and we watched it. I pulled out one of the beers I had emptied by drilling a hole in the bottom and had filled it with soda then soldered shut. I drank from it and handed him a fresh beer.

We had watched most of the movie before we said much.

"So you really here to help me with homework?" he asked.

"Sorta. I can. If you want."

His pupils proved he was feeling the pills. Now for the clincher.

"I'm gonna get us some more beers. If you want another one," I said, standing.

"Sure."

I went to the kitchen and prepared the next beer with the crushed-up pills, and got another one I'd prepped with soda. I went back to his room and handed him the spiked beer and sat down.

I got out the books and went through what he probably had missed so far. Boy, did his eyes glaze over. I sipped my 'beer' nosily, prompting him to drink his quickly. I even teased him about being a light-weight and falling behind, so he downed it and had another. I talked schoolwork for a while longer.

He blinked a lot, and seemed loggy and stupid. But he was like that anyway. Even so, I could tell the meds were working. I could also tell by the erection I could see in his cut-off sweats. And by the fact that he was slightly swaying and was struggling to hold his head up.

I figured if I was going to go through with it, now was the time. I put down the books, and slid toward him on his bed.

"What I really want to teach you, is that you shouldn't be bullying me."

"Huh?" he grunted.

"That looks like it probably hurts," I said, gently touching the dark bruise around the top of his left knee near the bandage.

"It's still sore," he said. "Almost broke that knee."

He was grinning and swaying.

"Yeah, looks it," I said, slowly circling it with a finger.

I could see his erection pretty clearly. I looked up and into his eyes. Dark brown, almost black. And the pupils proved he was well-doped. His blood pressure was up, because his lips were dark red and his cheeks blushed.

"You look so tired," I said softly. "You look like you might pass out. Maybe you should lay down."

"Yeah. Tired. Kind a..." he trailed off, then sighed, then shook his head.

I slowly slid my hand upward.

"Feel like I'm... so mellow..."

His voice was almost a whisper. Maybe I shouldn't have used so much of the pills. Oh well.

His head fell against my shoulder, and he sighed very deeply.

"So stoned," he sighed, then giggled.

"Marty?"

"Yeah?"

I couldn't see his face, but I could feel his breath on my neck.

"I want to teach you something."

"Huh? What?" he sighed.

My hand was nearly to the edge of the cut-off sweats leg. His thigh was warm and soft and smooth. Man, this was scary and exciting. I was so hard it felt like it was going to split up the middle.

I grabbed his thigh tightly, and then used my other arm to help him lay down. I pulled his legs up on the bed. He helped, so he wasn't totally out of it.

"Feel so wild," he sighed, grinning.

"I slipped something into your beer," I told him.

"What?" he asked, giving me a grin.

"A little X, and a little something else."

He laughed, then said, "Didn't know you were such a partier."

"Yeah, a lot you don't know about me," I told him.

"Like what?" he sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

I looked down at him. He wasn't bad looking at all. Cute, actually. He didn't have any acne, and his face was well made. Nice features. Gentle cheek bones, nice chin, good lips. His eyes were so dark now.

I laid down next to him and put my hand on his thigh, right up by his groin. He didn't seem to notice. I looked right in his face.

"Like, that I know some things that'll blow your mind," I told him.

"Like what?" he asked, grinning up at me stupidly.

"I heard you made out with Carrie Winthrop?" I asked.

He grinned, and nodded, then said, "Yeah. Got a hand-job," he laughed.

"Is that all?" I asked, sliding my hand up further, and now feeling the warmth spreading out from beneath the leg of his cut-offs.

"Better than you ever got," he told me. "You're still a virgin," he added with a laugh.

"Nope." I told him.

"Yeah, right!" he laughed.

"Oh, I'm no virgin," I said, moving my face closer to his. "I've gotten way more than a hand-job."

"Liar," he laughed.

I knew he wouldn't remember any of this very clearly later, if anything at all, so I leaned down the rest of the way and kissed him. He didn't resist at all. He didn't move a muscle, either, except his lips. I pulled my face away and looked at him.

His eyes were closed, his face vacant.

"I know a lot more than how to kiss," I told him, and moved my hand up under the leg of his cut-offs.

He was wearing briefs. I got a good feel around. He was hard as hell, and about four inches or so long. A little skinny, too. I scratched at the underside of the tip.

"A guy knows what feels good," I said. "Way more than a girl. A guy has a dick, and knows what feels good to it. He don't have to learn, he already knows."

That got no response. His eyes stayed closed and his face and body were mostly slack.

"Hey, Marty," I said loudly, giving him a good shake.

Nothing but a soft, "Hmmm.".

I pulled my hand out of his cut-offs and sat up a bit to pull them down and off his legs. He didn't resist at all. I doubted he knew what was happening. He probably thought he was having a wet dream or something.

I got the camera out of my bag and took some pictures. I made sure to have his face in many of them, along with mine and his, and mine and his privates. Then I got undressed. I straddled his chest and slid the tip of my dick in between his soft, warm lips. They spread open, and I pulled his jaw down with a hand, and slid the rest of my head into his wet mouth.

I took more pictures. These were mostly of my dick in his mouth. He began sucking on it. Man! I knew he wasn't willingly, just instinctively, but it was so hot! I was gonna blow a huge wad if I let him for longer than I needed to for the pictures. I should pull it out soon, but the sight of his red lips around my cock was awesome and it felt great! I felt his tongue sometimes, but he wasn't doing anything in particular with it. I humped his mouth for a little bit, just to feel it, not to blow off. I didn't want to cum for a long time yet. We had several more hours, and I intended using them all.

I got on my knees at the side of the bed and took down his blue briefs. I got hold of his dick. Just a bit shorter than mine, probably about four-and-a-half inches or so. Pretty straight. Nice rounded head on it, softly curved edges. Tiny little hole on the very tip. His bush was pretty nice, nothing like the older guys, of course, but nothing like the ones just starting puberty either. And nice balls. They were bigger than mine, maybe about the size of big olives. Rolling them around in his smooth sack was a lot of fun.

Then I leaned over and put my lips over his head, and slid them down over it, and sucked. He groaned, "Ohhh!" and shivered. I stopped sucking his dick to check on his face. His eyes were still closed and he looked pretty out of it. I grabbed his nuts and squeezed them pretty hard. He moaned a little but didn't do anything else, so I went to town on his cock. Man, I love sucking cock! It feels so good in my mouth. Smooth and velvety. And his rounded, gently curved head was so nice. He started groaning, "Ohhh!" over and over, so I stopped. I didn't want him cumming so soon.

I got on the bed, between his legs, lifted them carefully, spread his knees, and started licking behind his sack. So soft and smooth there. And really warm and slightly salty. He sighed more as I moved further back. Soon I had his legs way up, his ass off the bed, and was rimming his tight, pink hole. Man, how me moaned! It was more like, "Oooo!" now, and deep in his chest. I got a few selfie-pics of my face stuffed in his ass.

When my tongue got a little tired, I let his legs down carefully and moved up his body until I was swapping tongues with him. He didn't move at all, except his tongue and lips. I'd gotten him more doped than I had intended, but it was safer to have him more out of it than not out of it enough and fighting me off.

I slid back down his body, lifted his legs, and spit on his hole, I worked it in and around, and then spit on my dick and worked it around. Then I slid up between his legs, and took pics as I slid my dick into his tight hole. Really tight! But I got it in without much trouble, then fucked him. Man, virgin hole feels great! I'd never fucked someone before, and it felt so good. Tight and smooth and warm. I could have cum in him no trouble, but I didn't want to splooge yet. Still, I nearly did.

I put his legs back down, and kissed up his smooth body, and found a nice string of pre-jizz leaking out of his dick. I cleaned that up, sucked it a little, then kissed up the rest of his body and then swapped tongues again for a while.

I took more pics, mostly of his body and nads, and my mouth on them. Then a few more with my cock and my balls in his mouth. He sucked it again. Damn. Lips and tongue are so smooth and awesome on your cock! He even moaned a little as he sucked my dick this time. I was pretty sure he wasn't so much gay, as just so under the pills that his inhibitions were gone. He probably had no idea this was really happening.

I went back to sucking his dick. It leaked more, and I sucked and licked that up every time. I sucked him, played with his balls and his asshole, and the rest of his body, for over an hour. I didn't let him cum. I took a long break and checked out every inch of his room. I found some porn mags under his desk along with a crusty sock under his bed. I also found his weed stash and his money stash. Then I went back to exploring his body, sucking his cock, and licking his ass. His dick turned deeply red on the head, and throbbed with every heart beat. It was now over two hours, and the yellow capsules were wearing off. They were short-lasting, and he began groaning a bit as I played with his dick, balls, ass, and the rest of his smooth, hairless body.

I was sucking his head and had three fingers up his ass when he groaned, and then said...

"I wanna cum! Make me cum!"

It was slurred and fuzzy, but he was waking up from the muscle relaxer. I couldn't get hold of anything stronger or longer lasting. They were used for short surgical procedures and all kinds of 'scopies'. They lasted up to two hours, and then began weakening quickly. The boner pills had another couple of hours to go, and the X was probably wearing off as well. I got another X out and ground it up and got him to take it that way.  About twenty minutes later he was groaning and stirring.

"Make me cum, baby," he groaned, barely able to move his arms enough to touch the back of my head.

"Not until you agree to something," I said, moving so that we were face to face, only inches apart.

"What're you talking 'bout?" he mumbled, barely able to make eye contact with me. "What are you doing?".

"You're not going to remember this, not much, but you'll remember a bit of it. It'll seem like a dream. But I want you to remember this one thing. Understand?"

I slapped him hard. Hard enough that it made it through the drugs. For a moment I saw clarity in his eyes. He blinked at me.

"I want you to remember that if you ever pick on me again, that I'll tell everyone that we've been fucking for a long time, and that you're gay. Understand?"

I slapped him again. Then I held up the camera and took some more pictures of his stunned face.

"Is this for real?" he asked, his words slurred.

"Very real," I said, and grabbed his dick.

I took pictures of his dick in my hand, then slid down and sucked his cock as I took more pictures. Then I moved up, straddled his chest, and prodded my cock into his mouth again. I took more pictures. He was aware this time, and didn't open his lips, but only looked up at me with this confused look on his face.

"Suck my dick," I told him, prodding my dick at his mouth. "Suck it or I'll tell," I told him.

He was drugged enough to fall for the bluff, and he let my dick into his mouth and began sucking it. I took picture after picture.

I was going to cum. I wanted to stop, but it was too good. So I rode his mouth, and took pictures, and let him suck me off. God, it was good! The best blow-job I'd ever had. He wasn't doing all that well, it was just that I was making Marty suck me off. And I was taking pictures.

"I'm gonna cum all over your face," I told him, and pulled my dick out just as I shot off.

Man, I coated his face with my jizz. Got it all over his forehead and eyes and cheeks and lips. Nice big squirts. And I kept taking pictures until I was done squirting all over his face.

Then I sat down next to him and let him beg me to make him cum. He tried to jerk himself off, but his muscles wouldn't obey well enough. All he could do was sort of paw at his pounding erection.

When I was ready, I got between his legs, and worked on his balls for a while, then toyed with his cock for a while. Then I got his legs up again, got his hole wet again, and then my dick, and then I fucked him again, taking pics. Damn, I almost came again, but managed to make myself stop.

I got down on my elbows, took his purple-headed cock in my mouth, and gently blew him off. He didn't last five minutes before he was groaning. I felt his cock fire off like a howitzer. Cum slammed into the back of my throat in waves, and he bucked and jerked as he came.

He moaned, "Ooooo!" over and over as I swallowed his wad.

The blue pill kept him hard, and I kept sucking, and he jerked and writhed as much as the relaxants let him. I didn't stop. I worked his dick with lips, tongue and suction until he gasped, "Oh! Fuck! Cummmmm!" and his second wad almost filled my mouth again.

He grunted, "Ugh!" as I kept sucking. His muscles reacted enough that I had to hold him down as I kept sucking his dick right through to his third orgasm. He groaned, "Ahhh!" as he came the third time, and his hips bucked a bit this time.

Man, was his dick purple now! I mean, the head looked like a distorted grape. And the hole was red and swollen. His balls were pretty much up inside of him, too. And now his dick actually softened up and went down.

I lifted his ass, spit on his hole, worked it around, then spit on my dick and worked it around, and against his moans of, "No," I slid my dick into his tight ass and fucked him hard.

I pushed his legs up against his chest, and shoved all of my dick into him, over and over. Damn! I lasted about ten hard shoves, then filled his ass with he biggest wad I'd ever shot. Ever! It felt like I was unleashing a tidal wave.

I pulled my dick out of him, let his legs down, and then laid down next to him.

"That hurt," he said, his words slurred and hesitant.

He looked scared. His eyes narrowed a bit as he stared at me.

"You raped me, you fuck," he said, barely able to get the words out.

"Yeah, I did. And you loved it."

"No I didn't."

"The fuck you didn't!" I laughed. Then, trying to sound like him, I said, "More! Make me cum!"

I rolled over and picked up the camera, and took a couple pictures of his face, then slowly panned down his body, taking more pictures.

"And I have proof," I said, waggling the camera.

He blinked and stared at me for a long time.

"If you ever bother me again, these pictures will be all over the school the next day. Get it?"

"Why?"

"You know why. I'm sick of you shoving me around. I'm not your target anymore. Or my friends. You leave us alone, and no one ever sees these."

I held the camera above his face. He tried to grab at it, but the drugs were still strong enough that he couldn't have grabbed a dead horse's ass if he was sitting on it.

"I'll tell the cops you drugged me and raped me," he said.

"And I'll tell the cops we've been fucking for months. Who you think they'll believe?" I said, and showed him the pictures of my cock in his mouth on the view screen. "And who do you think the whole school will believe?"

He looked at me in silence for a long time again.

"Even if the cops and the school believes you, they'll still know we fucked," I pointed out. "Everyone will know you got fucked in the ass. And that you sucked my cock. And I shot my wad all over your face. You want to live with that? Or would you rather just leave me and my friends alone and forget about it?"

We were quiet while I got dressed. I considered leaving him naked on his bed. His folks would be home before he could dress himself. I wondered what they'd think, finding their son naked on the bed, hardly able to move, smelling like jizz. I wondered if he'd tell them what happened.

So I got his briefs and cut-offs back on him and got him comfortable.

"Pretend you're asleep when your folks get home."

"Yeah," he whispered. "You really won't show those to anyone?"

"Hell no. Not so long as you leave us alone," I told him.

He nodded, proving the drugs were wearing off.

"My dick hurts," he complained. "Ass too."

"It'll go away," I told him, with a snicker.

He kind of grinned.

"You got some balls," he said, still looking at me.

"Just sick of being picked on, is all."

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll leave you guys alone. Just don't show anyone those things."

"I won't. Just don't bully us."

"I won't."

He was able to move his hand well enough to grab his groin now.

"Sore?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "You can suck a dick, dude."

"Thanks."

He looked at me, and asked, "So, you really gay? Or is this just for the blackmail?"

"Oh, I'm gay," I told him.

He nodded and looked at the ceiling.

I reached down and moved his hand. I was getting horny again. I fondled his stuff through his sweats and briefs. It actually got hard again. I was surprised.

He was blushing.

"Want another?" I asked.

He blushed darker.

I didn't ask again. I slid down, lowered his cut-offs and briefs, and gave him the best blow-job I could. Soon his hand was on the back of my head, sort of guiding my efforts. He was moaning, "Oh, fuck, yeah," and other things.

He lasted a long, long time, and I made sure he enjoyed it. I was enjoying the hell out of it.

"I'm gonna cum!" he groaned, and pushed my head down harder.

I buried my nose in his bush and sucked, and swallowed his thin wad. It wasn't much this time at all, but he bucked and jerked like mad, groaning, "Fuck!" over and over.

Then he pulled my head up. His muscle control was returning.

"Fuck," he sighed almost loudly, grinning. "Damn!"

I got an idea. It was worth a try.

"So, wanna make a deal?" I asked him.

"What?" he asked, turning his head to look at me.

"I'll blow you every Sunday, and you keep your mouth shut and your hands off me and my friends."

He laughed at me. Then nodded.

So, the next Sunday, I went over and helped him with his homework. I actually got his assignments from his teachers, and he actually worked on them with me. And I blew him really well - more than once. It wasn't long before he started giving me head back. And then it wasn't long before he was fucking me regularly.

When he came back to school, he stopped his bullying. By then, I had pointed out that his friends weren't friends, and he saw the truth of it. He fell in with us dorks. We put the past behind us, and we all became pretty good friends. He stopped doing drugs and drinking. His grades went way up. He was happy and having a good time.

For almost a year, we sucked and fucked on Sundays. Well, he fucked me. He didn't let me fuck him. I thought about drugging him and fucking his ass hard, but we had a good thing going and I didn't want to ruin the the willing oral reciprocity.

He was straight, though, and eventually got a girlfriend. The first of us dorks to do so. But by then I was also messing around with several other guys, so I didn't go without.  

 

 

 

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