Bad Idea

Dylan Bardsworthy had just moved to Bentley, New York and was trying desperately to make friends and fit in. It wasn't an easy thing for the normally shy Dylan to do, but he wanted so badly to make friends that he was ready to do anything. Unfortunately for Dylan, that led to him making a very bad decision one Friday evening.

....

Chapter One: Why me?

Dylan fought to hold back the tears that were welling up in his eyes as he watched the metallic gate going down at the entrance to the store. It was closing time, and the mall was now empty, with all the shoppers on their way home.

Dylan should have been gone with them, but something bad had just happened, and when the gate came down, Dylan was on the wrong side of it.

On the counter of the "It's Only A Buck" dollar store lay the reason he was being detained by the man that ran the store. It was a cheesy looking yellow necklace with 'WWJD?' stamped on it, and Dylan didn't even want it. He had grabbed it as a joke.

They had made him do it. That was what Dylan kept telling the man who had caught him as he tried to leave the store with the trinket in his pocket. The guys from his new neighborhood that he had come to the mall with had insisted that in order to be part of the group, he had to steal something.

Like everything else Dylan had tried to do to fit in, it hadn't gone well. While his so-called friends hooted and hollered as they ran out of the store, the mean looking man at the register had yelled at them to stop. Only one had stopped. Dylan.

Should have run, Dylan mused as the man locked up the cash drawer. Why did he stop? Force of habit, Dylan knew. Somebody in authority tell you to halt, you do it. The other guys didn't, and they were probably on their way home, laughing at him.

"What would Jesus do?" the bald man sneered as he held up the thing that Dylan had tried to swipe, looking down at him with disgust. "I don't think he'd steal, do you?"

"I'm sorry," Dylan sobbed. "I'll pay for it."

"You'll pay for it alright," the man agreed, grabbing Dylan by the shoulder and leading him to the back room.

...

Chapter Two: What else?

"Let me see some identification," the man said, and has Dylan took out his wallet the man grabbed it from him.

"Look at all this money," the man said, fanning through the bills in the wallet. "Must be 30 bucks here, and you're stealing a piece of crap like this?"

"I didn't want to. They kinda made me."

"Who did?" the man said, who was so much taller than Dylan that the young man was eye level with the name tag on his shirt, that identified him as Phil. "Did they steal too?"

"I think so," Dylan sniffed. "I don't know."

"Give me their names," Phil snapped.

"I can't."

"You mean you won't."

"No, I really don't know them. I just moved up here last month."

"Aren't we lucky?" Phil snarled. "As if Bentley hasn't got enough problems already?"

Dylan knew that he was screwed either way. If he ratted out his new friends, they would probably kick his ass. If he didn't, it might even be worse.

"Mister, there's $34 in there," Dylan said. "Take it."

"Why? It's not my money. Do you think I'm a thief or something?" Phil asked. "Or did you steal this money too?"

"No."

"Let's see here," the man said, looking at the out-of-state drivers license, with the picture of the kid that looked eerily like Harry Potter. "Dylan Bardsworthy. Weird name. Where have I hear that name before? Bardsworthy?"

Dylan scrunched up his face as he watched the man trying to remember, and when he recalled where he had heard the name, a big grin appeared.

"That's the new police chief's name, isn't it?" Phil chirped, and when he saw the pained expression on the lad's face he knew he was right.

"Won't Daddy be happy to hear about this!" Phil said as he pulled his phone out of his pants. "Usually when I catch a kid shoplifting I have to decide whether to call the cops or the parents. I guess we can get two birds with one stone here."

"PLEASE!" Dylan yelped, tears rolling down his face. "Don't. I'll do anything."

"Is that right?" Phil said, looking at the license again. "Oh! Let's see here. You aren't a kid anymore, so it's a real crime. You turned 18 last week, huh? Happy birthday. Maybe I'll give you a break."

"Thank you!" Dylan chirped.

"Not so fast," Phil said. "What else did you steal?"

"Nothing. I swear."

"I'm supposed to believe that a thief can't be a liar too?" Phil asked. "Take off your clothes."

"What?"

"I said take off your clothes," Phil snapped. "Take them off or I'm calling the police, and maybe the newspaper too. That would make an interesting headline."

Dylan pulled the t-shirt up and over his head, folding it neatly before setting it on the table. Phil looked over the lad, who was a bit effeminate as he moved. He was about 5'10 but was very skinny. His chest was scrawny and hairless, and his arms were reed thin as well. Dylan's long and scraggly hair almost reached the boniest pair of shoulders imaginable.

"Pants too," Phil said. "Empty the pockets too. Turn them inside out."

Dylan kicked off his sneakers and turned around as he unbuckled his belt so he could take his pants down. When Phil saw the bubble butt in the tight white underwear he took a deep breath, trying to keep his mind on business despite the distraction.

"Socks too," Phil reminded Dylan, who took the tall white athletic socks down, revealing the skinny calves which had only the faintest dusting of fine hair on their insides.

"I didn't say take off everything except your underwear," Phil said. "If they aren't off in five seconds I'm calling 911."

Phil chuckled as he watched Dylan hurriedly pull down his underwear with his back to him, folding everything up neatly afterward, even the socks. That butt was so round and smooth that Phil found himself getting aroused as he stared.

"Turn around. I want to make sure you didn't stick anything of mine up there," Phil demanded, reaching into the desk drawer and taking out a small tube. "Now bend over and spread them."

"Oh no," Dylan whined when he felt the cold finger first rubbing, and then penetrating his anus.

Phil's finger probed around the tight cavity, enjoying the reaction of the trembling teen who was so nervous that Phil could see the muscles in the back of Dylan's skinny thighs quivering while he checked for other stolen merchandise.

"Guess you're clean," Phil said. "Stand up like a man."

Dylan's face was all scrunched up as he shuffled his feet to face the man, still not able to make eye contact. Dylan's hands were cupped over his genitals, covering them from Phil's gaze, but he would have none of that.

"What are you hiding there?" Phil nodded toward Dylan's trembling hands.

"Nothing," Dylan whimpered.

"Move your hands! Phil barked, the tone and volume of his voice making Dylan jump. "You're starting to piss me off! Now put your hands on top of your head."

....

Chapter Three: Honesty is the best policy

"You were right," Phil chortled as he watched Dylan's hands slowly move away from his crotch, and it seemed like the young man's entire body was shaking as he put his hands on top of his head. "You weren't hiding anything after all."

Dylan cringed as the man mocked his modest-sized penis, which was trying to crawl into his intestines from fear.

"Stop your sobbing," Phil said. "Nothing worse than a baby."

The skinny teen has a cute body on him, Phil noted as he surveyed it closely. So soft and smooth looking, with just faint wisps of hair under his arms, the down on his calves, and the soap-pad sized tuft of hair above his dick.

"Turn around and bend over," Phil commanded. "Spread those cheeks for me. It's what you would be doing down at police headquarters anyway."

Phil took a deep breath as the young man bent over, exposing a ruddy pink anus and the underside of his balls, which were taut and tight from fear.

"How many men have done it to you?" Phil asked.

"What?"

"How many guys have fucked you in the ass?"

"None!" Dylan said defiantly.

"None of your thief friends have stuck their dicks up there yet?" Phil asked.

"No!"

"Well, give them time. You've sucked cock before, right?"

"No," Dylan said after a brief pause.

"Don't need a lie detector with you, do we kid?" Phil snapped. "The way you answered that last question? Let's just say that you should never play poker. Get yourself off for me."

"Huh?"

"You heard me," Phil said. "Jerk yourself off and you can go. Come on and make it fast. The Lakers are on the late game tonight on TNT."

"I can't," Dylan whined, but when he saw the look of rage that came over the man's face after he said that, he reached down and grabbed his stem, pulling on himself frantically while closing his eyes.

"That's it," Phil sighed, enjoying the intensity Dylan was bringing to his efforts.

"It won't," Dylan complained after a minute of yanking on himself had brought little change.

"Keep trying," Phil said. "Try thinking about some girl at school that turns you on - or a guy. Want some inspiration?"

Phil opened the desk drawer and pulled out an old issue of People magazine and opened it to a picture of the cast of the TV show Friends.

"Courtney Cox doesn't do it for you?" Phil asked. "I think know what will."

Dylan was so busy staring at the picture, straining to get himself hard so he could end this nightmare, that he hadn't noticed the man unzipping his pants, and it wasn't until he reached inside the open fly that Dylan's eyes darted over.

....

Chapter Four: Suspicions confirmed.

Dylan made a choking sound when he saw Phil take his cock out of his pants, his frantic attempt at masturbation grinding to a halt as he watched the man's fingers slide up and down the longest, fattest dick Dylan had ever seen in real life.

Phil's cock was cocoa brown in hue, and when the man's fingers retracted the foreskin of his uncircumcised member, exposing the bulbous head of his cock, Dylan felt a chill race down his spine.

The man's dick was so big - bigger than Ernie Parisi's - and even bigger than the one that man had that picked him up hitchhiking, that the mere sight of it was intimidating. Dylan recalled the difficulty he had when that man made him do things to his dick, and this man Phil's was way bigger.

"Thought you would like this," Phil mused as he looked at the long, slender prong Dylan was now holding, and Phil's voice broke Dylan out of his trance.

When Dylan looked down at his dick which he was still holding, he saw to his shame that he was hard.

"That's a nice cock you've got on you, son." Phil said in a much kinder voice as he stepped forward and brought his member over to Dylan's dick, rubbing their heads together while putting his hand on Dylan's shoulder and pressing down.

"You know what I want," Phil said after savoring the feel of Dylan's dick against his own. "Get down and suck it. You know you want to. It's alright."

"No," Dylan said, trying to move away from the man who was cornering him against the desk, and as he tried to move his eyes never strayed from Phil's cock, which was now fully engorged.

"Have it your way," Phil said, reaching back for the tube. "This was what I really wanted anyway."

"Stop crying," Phil said after he had bent Dylan over his desk. "You aren't very convincing."

"Please," Dylan cried as the man inserted first one and then two lube-coated fingers into Dylan's virgin anus, which was already slick but now was being stretched.

"Begging?" Phil sighed as he brought the tip of his greased member to the puckered orifice, and as he eased the head of his cock inside of Dylan he ignored the moan when it finally popped inside of him after considerable effort . "Oh well, I like begging better than the crying."

Almost all of the front of Dylan's body was on top of the cold wooden desktop, and his feet were off the floor while the man sunk more and more of his huge manhood into him with each thrust. Dylan's fingers clutched the edge of the desk as he felt the stiff cock probing way deeper than the fingers had.

Phil leaned back, pulling his cock out of Dylan's ass briefly to admire the gaping hole that his anus had become, before plunging his cock back into the orifice.

Even the elevator music the mall always played was off now, and all was quiet except for Dylan's occasional grunt as the older man continued to impale him.

Finally, when Phil could hold back no longer, he let out a loud groan as he came, emptying his load deep into Dylan's bowels in a series of spurts that made the young man's body twitch with each blast.

Phil pulled his deflating member out of Dylan, watching his milky cum oozing out of the reddened ring as it slowly retracted back to normal. He slapped Dylan's butt cheeks with his drained cock before pulling his slacks back up.

"That was good, wasn't it son?" Phil asked Dylan, who was still sprawled over the desktop. "You can stop the act now. No shame in enjoying. Just say you liked it."

Dylan shook his head, unable to look Phil in the eye as he got helped off of the desk and onto his feet.

"If you didn't like it, you have a funny way of showing your displeasure, because that isn't mine," Phil said, pointing toward the puddle of cum that was on the desktop under where Dylan had been laying, and then to the long string of seed still hanging from the tip of Dylan's dick.

"Can I go now, mister?" Dylan asked, and Phil nodded.

He watched Dylan get dressed in silence, and when he was ready Phil ushered him to the back door, since the entrances of the mall were probably locked up by now.

"Here," Phil said, handing him the cheap necklace that had brought all of this on to begin with. "A souvenir."

Phil was surprised when Dylan took it as he ducked out the door, and after the kid had disappeared into the night Phil went back into the store to finish locking up.

...

Epilogue.

"We're closed," Phil said, not even looking up from counting the drawer when he heard someone rattle the gate.

"It's me," said the meek voice from the other side of the gate."

"Hi, Dylan," Phil said, surprised to see his friend from the night before. "Didn't expect to see you again. Forget something?"

"Kinda," Dylan said shyly.

"What is it?"

"Um... remember when you asked me to do something last night and I said no?"

"No, I'm not sure what you mean," Phil lied, watching Dylan squirm.

"About me, you know," Dylan mumbled, looking around nervously. "Sucking your - you know - your cock?"

"Oh sure," Phil responded, smiling at seeing the necklace around the lad's neck. "I remember that now."

"I was just wondering - you know?" Dylan asked

"I can think of a nicer place than here," Phil suggested, before the young man ended up really begging. "Unless you prefer the back room."

"Anywhere," Dylan said. "Anywhere you want."

...

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