Warning: this story contains scenes of violent, non-consensual sex.
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Steven could not believe that he had a fat quarterback's cock driving into his throat. A relatively skinny, splayed out like a roasted pig on a locker room bench, with a fat dick plowing into his mouth. It was juicy and veiny, everything he had imagined from the porn scenarios he had grown up on. Even the gagging felt sexy him, but he especially loved the pubic hair hitting him in his face. And the feeling in his own cock, which had never been so hard. He stroked it and felt squirts of precum leak from the tip of his wide and long cock, so big it seemed ill-fitting on his svelte frame.
His partner moaned in delight. "Fuck, it feels so good, faggot."
Even this term faggot—which had been a word of derision for his entire life in school was transformed by the act of cocksucking. It made him feel sexy and slutty, as if his porn fantasies had come out of his imagination and to life. With the word faggot, it was almost fitting that he had to wait until the last week of high school to fulfil his destiny and stick a toe out of the closet. He had always lusted after Kevin the quarterback's built frame, smooth skin—everyone in the school had—but never assumed that one of his primary bullies would actually be masking his homosexual urges. But it just sort of happened that day, as they were the last two out of the shower in gym class. He looked over at Kevin as they were changing and noticed the quarterback sporting a hard-on, which instantly made him hard. And even he was the target of derision, they all k new Steven had a huge cock, so he could do little to hide it. And without words, Kevin came over and stuck his cock in Steven's face, to which Steven knew exactly what to do.
He opened his mouth wide, and somehow knew to relax his job. The saliva flowed. The taste was incredible. Clean and sweaty, meaty and fleshy. The salt of Kevin's thick precum dripping down his throat. Kevin's balls, hot from the shower, slapping his chin. Kevin moaned, and Steven wrapped his hands on Kevin smooth, toned thighs, gracing them across his bubble butt.
Eighteen years of torment in a small town, graduation one week away. This was almost absolving the torment.
"What the fuck you faggots?"
Jared, one of Kevin's best friends, walked in on them. They had been too engrossed in their sucking to hear the obvious sound of footsteps.
Kevin immediately pulled out. "Jesus faggot, don't fucking attack me like that again or I'll kill you." He reached down to pick up a jock strap and lobbed it onto Steven's face.
"Yeah, sniff crotches, faggot."
"What the fuck did he do to you bro?"
"I was changing like I always do and he just dove toward me and pinned me against the lockers. Cock-hungry faggot."
It made no sense. Kevin clearly wanted this, as he was standing there naked with a hard-on, just like Steven.
"We need to teach this faggot a lesson." The two football players lunged toward Steven and grabbed his body, lifting him over their heads. "I can't believe we've waited this long to give this fucking faggot what has been coming for him. Thinks he can suck the quarterback off and get away with it. We don't want his fucking AIDS."
They marched Steven, his body squirming and squealing, toward the showers where they threw his body against the filthy wet tiles. His body made a heavy thud. They could hear tiles crack. Still naked, and a bit hard from the renewed excitement, Kevin walked up to Steven's clenched body, hiding from his attacker but also caught in pain, and smacked him with his fat cock.
"You like that, huh?"
Jared cackled. "Faggot. You nasty faggot." He brought a big wad of phlegm to his throat and spat it toward Steven. It landed right on his face, which had begun to drip blood from the impact of the toss.
Kevin and Jared noticed this and, knowing possible repercussions, each uttered one last faggot, and fled the scene. Steven would lie there for an hour, ashamed, scared, in pain. He knew how bad this would be, but it would only be worse when people asked. He knew Jared would spread word of his misdoing, and the last week of his high school experience, which only moments ago had been a moment of awakening, had come crashing down to what would be his worst.
He was right. The teachers joined the mocking, his parents refused to come to his defense, and the beatings only continued, verbally and physically. He received his diploma with a black eye and a limp, which of course was attributed to his homosexuality, not the virulent homophobia that poisoned his town, his life. The only silver lining for him was that in a matter of weeks, he would enrol in NYU and never look back. And he did.
**
Fifteen Years Later.
Steven did not want this to be his Wednesday. He did not want this to be happening any day of the week. But sometimes the past reckons with you and the closing the sale of his parent's childhood. He had not been home since his graduation; had barely spoken to his parents after they distanced himself from him. But it was their untimely death that called him back.
Without a will and as the only child, Steven was the next of kin. He had inherited everything—what little they had—which he had no interest in. He wanted to unload his childhood home and get back to life as quickly as possible. There was a certain sadness to the whole thing, losing one's parents; but he had really lost them years before when they had given up on him.
It was marked by morbidity too. His parents had been brutally murdered, their throats slashed in the middle of the night. It was part of a string of murders that had beset the town that fall. Another factor that made the visit harder.
It had made the national news at that point: five people dead in an otherwise boring southern town, far enough away from everything that no one had ever bothered to pay attention to it. There was a certain sense of shock: why had this idyllic place been befallen by violence. But Steven understood differently. He had been a recipient of that violence his whole life. He knew the horrors that were embedded in the landscape of that place. And as he drove his rental car from the Raleigh airport into the backwaters of the state, he could sense it too.
He was less scared this time though, if only for reasons of his physical prowess. After the senior year shock, he avowed to make a change in college. He traded his skinny frame for a built one: defined biceps, molded pectorals, sculpted legs like a Michelangelo marble. His body hair shifted from a marker of shame to a sign of his riotous sexuality: everyone he slept with loved it, relished in it. Worshipped it even. He had gone from a sad puppy to a proud lion, he chest puffed out, peacocking his fur. And Halloween in New York always gave him a chance to show it off.
But not this year. It was packing boxes, signing paperwork, and dodging the many signs of his past he knew he would have to lay eyes between the train depot and his childhood home. It was most frightening thing he could have on Halloween: a reckoning with ghosts of his Southern childhood.
He wanted to avoid this as much as possible. He planned to meet the realtor, sign paperwork, pack up the last few boxes, and, meet the movers the next morning. Steven wanted it to be that simple. In and out, once last time, leaving his Southern past where he had left it all those years before, this time for good.
As he pulled into the home of the small town he had left behind in a rental car, Steven felt a chill come over him. It had little to do with the Halloween spooks of a fading sunset and autumnal crisp and much more to do with all the memories he had tried to run away from. The look of exurban idyll was still on full display, but it's trashy homophobia, it red-state bigotry was felt by him. The blue collar working community, which had taken the night off to party and take children trick-or-treating, might have exuded a certain charm. But he knew better than to be seduced by it. He also knew that a serial killer lurked out there. He needed this to be quick, and he needed his guard up. One night in the house of his childhood, and then back to life as he had worked so hard to build it.
