Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*****
To say I am a shy guy would be an understatement. Without benefit of a roadmap for self esteem, I shrink from most social activity. Feeling that I do not fit in actually makes it so. Guys like me turn to our imaginations a lot. We begin to admire, then to idealize, other guys we believe are at the top of their game. They seem to exude confidence. They are quick to make friends. Their bodies are physically attractive. It's not a stretch to start fantasizing about them...to wonder what it would be like if they would hit on me. Of course, none of these thoughts can ever get out of my head into the real world! My game is set. I play straight by default - no way to change that? Doing my best to not get caught staring is becoming very difficult. The gym showers. The beach. Bike riding with the guys half naked on the hottest day of the summer.
"Last one to the trees sucks cock!" Trace and Brogan take off like the wind, laughing as they look back at me still pedaling at a crawl. How I got to hang with these two is a story unto itself. Suffice to say that it pleases them to hang with what they perceive to be a nerdish pussyboy. Little did I know the true intent and plans behind their 'friendship' for me. But I was soon to find out.
"On your knees, Corn Dog!" That's their pet name for me. My parents had the brilliant idea to name me after some famous rich dude. So I carry his name. The burden is all mine. I am Cornelius Plumber, 'Corn Dog' or 'Corny' for short.
"You guys cheat up the wazoo. You were half way down the trail before yelling out that the race was on. Come on. Give a guy a chance!" I am totally out of breath after trying my best to catch up with them...and just maybe not be 'last', as always. We are all dismounting our bikes. T and B (my shorthand for the two of them - they are inseparable) watch as I continue to catch some breath - bent over at the waist with hands on my knees and looking up at them. They are smiling, and obviously enjoying this.
"Wouldn't be fun if we didn't stack the deck, dickhead. Did you bring the snacks like we said?" I was...'asked'...to bring snacks and drinks along for the ride. So the three of us are sitting on this bench big enough for two; and jamming cake and drinks into us. The guys are fit. Very fit. Even so, after riding for an hour, they have joined me in feeling the burning need for refreshment. I sit between them. With the confidence of the young bucks that they are, T and B are ready to quench their appetites for something other than food. My eyes have been drifting downward to the growing bulges in their bike shorts since we sat down. They may have lingered there a bit too long.
"What are you looking at, faggot?" Teasing with sexual innuendo is the hallmark of these two. At 18, each of us is a timebomb of testosterone fueled cravings. They express theirs freely. I hide mine.
"Nothing." Caught. Have to get out of this.
"Bullshit, Corny! You're drooling - and not from the snacks. You want this, don't you!?" Trace is grabbing his bulge and giving it a gentle shake.
"I think he may be ready for his first lesson, Trace" Brogan and Trace are leaning in to each other, almost meeting in the middle of the bench - right in front of my face! I do not like the tone of the talk. My stomach is tight. The guys are looking around like they are spies or something. My bike is close by. This might be a good time to just get up and...
"Oh, no. We're not done, are we T?" Trace just shakes his head. He is looking at me with a predators stare. There is no compassion or friendship in his look. I am well aware that we are alone here in the woods. The 'race' ended in an isolated part of the park, hardly ever visited by anyone. In this heat, at this hour, we have not seen another soul, not since starting our ride.
"Time to pay the losers price, Corny." Now I am really afraid. But if I show it, it might fuel their actions. Trace has a hand on my shoulder; and Brogan is clamping down on my thigh like he is about to eat a chicken leg. Maybe humor will...
"Okay. Okay. I'll suck you off for Peat's sake. Lord knows you both have boners already!" My laughing is not met with their own. Instead, they just stare at me. Next thing I know, I am being lifted by the pits up and over the bench and down onto the tall grass. On the ground and looking up, all I can see is T and B coming at me like wrestlers intent on pinning their prey.
"He looks cute this way, eh T?"
"On his back like a pussyboy should be. Yeah. Cute." It's all a joke. It has to be.
"Okay. Let me up, guys. You win. I've been had." They are not moving. Trace is behind my head, holding my arms. Brogan is in front of me, siting on my hips. Obviously, I can not move. Brogan looks over at Trace. He is nodding. Now he is looking into my eyes, and his look is not a friendly one. It is filled with a kind of raw masculine intent. He is just staring into me.
"We know you want this, Corny. You've been hoping this would happen. Say it. Say you want this!" I am paralyzed and without speech. My mind is not my own to control. I am kind of shocked to feel my head bobbing up and down in the 'yes' motion. Then it all goes down.
Part 2 -
"We knew it, didn't we, Trace?" Brogan is smiling.
"You were right to have him tag along, B. I can't wait to share my 'friendship' with his mouth!" Truth be know, I can't wait, either. Nothing these two can say is hurting my feelings. I know my place. I know what my role is. They have no idea how much I need them to liberate my own desires. My long game has always been to make it with one of them. To have them both like this is beyond my dreams. But this is not the time to let on. This is the time to play along and get them really heated up.
"Guys. That's enough. You're not going to hurt me. You're good guys!" My voice is appropriately shaky as I blurt this out. It has the desired effect.
