textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/spear.txt

Garrett scurried home from his friend Abe's house, his hands stuffed
into the pockets of his jeans, wishing he'd worn a jacket like his
mother told him to.  It was already 1am, he had to get up for church
in the morning, but his mother knew he was just over Abe's, watching
Abe's collection of Star Trek movies for the 47th time, and it was the
deal they made when he started high school just a few weeks earlier,
that he could stay out late if she knew where he was.

"You treat me like a BABY!" he'd shrieked at her, "Everybody thinks
I'm a wimp I'm smaller than all the other guys they call me a nerd and
a faggot and you just make it worse buying me stupid clothes and not
letting me stay out late like I'm some kind of... of... REJECT!"

Garrett bent his head against the cool September night, remembering
the fight he'd had with his mother, feeling hot and nasty as he
remembered how mean he'd been to her, like it was somehow her fault
that he was too small and skinny and even though he was going to be
fifteen in January puberty hadn't touched his body yet.  

Like it was her fault he was such a geek and his best friend was the
class Poindexter, and guys were always knocking him down in the
hallways and stealing his lunch and making fun of him in the showers.
Larry Sarcone had called him pinky-dick the first day of gym class and
now the whole school knew him as "Pinky".  He was too small to slug
anyone who called him that, and he tried ignoring them, but it was
hard to do on his hands and knees in the center of a ring of boys,
trying to pick up his books and papers they'd knocked over, while they
took turns kicking him in the butt and calling him "Pinky" and
"faggot" and a slew of other worse things.

Lost in his miserable reverie, Garrett was taken completely by
surprise when a big beefy hand clamped over his mouth and three
figures hustled him into the van that was cruising beside them.  He
struggled and kicked instinctively, but they had him in a head-lock and
he was hopelessly outweighed and outnumbered.

He recognized the van; it was Dave Lawrence's, the star running back
on the high school varsity football team.  Everybody knew that van,
Dave called it "The Pussy-mobile" and bragged about all the different
girls he'd fucked in it.  The van peeled away from the curb just a few
blocks from his pal Abe's house, with Garrett crushed face-first
against the stained, beat-up mattress covering most of the floor, Chic
DeCarlos sitting on his back, twisting Garrett's left arm painfully up
his back.

"Lemme GO you guys!"  Garrett squealed, his voice rising as terror
gripped him.

One of the other two abductors kicked his left thigh, and Garrett
yelped.  "Lemme Go-o, you guys," he mimicked Garrett in a high-pitched
falsetto.

Garrett's captors laughed out loud.

"Listen to the little pansy!" the guy on the other side of Garrett's
prone form smirked, kicking Garrett's other leg, hard.  Garrett
thought he recognized the voice, Hugh something, he was one of Abe's
neighbors, a big hairy senior, Garrett was sure the guys that had
snatched him were all on the team, they were all wearing var' jackets.

"Did you have a nice time with your BOYFRIEND?"  Hugh leered at Garrett.

"Lemme GOOOOOO!!!"  Garrett screamed again, panicked, afraid he was
going to pee himself, or worse, start stuttering like he did when he
was a kid.

"Relax, kid, we're just inviting you to a party," Chic slapped the
back of Garrett's head from where he sat pinning him to the bed of the
van.

"Yeah," Dave called back from the front, "We only ever invite ONE
freshman faggot to our homecoming party, you should feel HONORED."

The guys in the van cracked up at Dave's remark; Garrett didn't
understand a damn thing that was happening to him, and he was really
afraid he might start crying.

**

The van was driving along a gravel road; Garrett recognized the
crunching sounds. The van eventually came to a stop, and his abductors
dragged Garrett out.  Garrett stared wildly at the surroundings,
difficult to do with his head twisted painfully under Chic's armpit.
He had no idea where he was; it was a big wooded clearing, there was a
big old picnic table, a couple guys sitting on it, swilling bottles of
beer and picking at the scattered remains of some near empty bags of
chips; a dozen or so teenagers were milling around a big bonfire going
in a pit near the center of the clearing.  If Garrett paid attention
to things like that he would have recognized that the attendant
revelers were all Juniors and Seniors, members of his High School's
football team, varsity lettermen.

And there was Jane Cathcart, one of the cheerleaders.

Garrett did know who SHE was; he and Abe talked endlessly about her
big breasts and tight ass and creamy white skin, and how they heard
she was a real slut, and how they'd like to do her, if they ever got
the chance, while they re-arranged their pants and tried to hide their
boners from each other.  Like two A.V. club freshman geeks had a hope
in hell of scoring with a cheerleader, a SOPHOMORE.

Randy Maxwell, the quarterback and team captain, staggered/swaggered
up to the guys holding Garrett, with Jane attached to his side.  His
face was flushed and his pupils shone weirdly in the light of the
fire.

"Hey, Welcome to the party, man" he greeted Garrett, smacking him
casually on the top of his head.  He was easily a foot taller than
Garrett; at a lean 185 he still outweighed the kid by almost 80 lbs.
He called back to one of the guys at the table.

"Hey Sarcone, you wanna meet yr little brothers friend PINKY?"

Garrett clutched helplessly at the muscular arm around his neck.  He
hated that Sarcone kid who'd gone to the other Jr. High across town;
he was tired of being shoved around the locker room and being the
receiver of countless "wedgies", of having his towel stolen so he had
to run naked from the shower to his locker on the other side of the
locker room, his hands clutching his genitals protectively as boys
twice his size chanted "pinky dick, pinky dick" and snapped wet towels
at his dripping, naked body.  He'd slipped once, and that mean
sonofabitch Larry Sarcone had landed a perfect wet crack to his balls
as Garrett sprawled on his back, screaming in pain, howling jeering
catcalls raining down on him.

He had no desire to meet Sarcone's older brother who'd probably taught
the younger Sarcone everything he knew.

"Lemme go," Garrett wailed patheticly, as Chic and Randy dragged him
over to where the elder Sarcone and another one of the team sat on the
picnic table, the crowd now gathering around, following them to the
table, further from the fire, in the darkness near the edge of the
clearing.  Guys were laughing, talking among themselves, drinking
beer.  Chic had him in a full-nelson now, his arms locked under
Garrett's armpits, his hands pressing the back of his head, pulling
Garrett's slight frame nearly off his feet so that he was barely
standing on his toes.

Frank Sarcone staggered to his feet.

"My kid brother says you got a fucking pencil dick," he challenged the
helpless boy.  "I wanna see."

"Fuck You!"  Garrett screamed.  "Leave me alone, I never did anything
to you!"

Sarcone pulled back and punched the small boy square in the nose;
blood bloomed on Garrett's upper lip as he wailed in shock at the
sudden blow, at the pain blossoming in the center of his face.

Smiling, Sarcone proceeded to pull Garrett's pants and underwear down
around his ankles, exposing his youthful penis to the shriveling
effects of the cool Autumn air, as Chic pulled him up off his feet.

"Jesus you really are a fucking mini-dick," Sarcone laughed cruelly as
Garrett's face reddened, near tears at the awful humiliation.
"Fucking Pink HAIRLESS mini-dick.  Guess you got nothing IN those puny
little balls, huh?"  He grabbed Garrett's nuts and squeezed, making
Garrett cry out.

Chic turned Garrett around in a circle, exposing his genitals to the
cruel scrutiny of the crowd of older, bigger boys.  Their laughter
rang in Garrett's head, as tears began unwillingly to leak from the
corners of his eyes.  He bit his upper lip to keep from sobbing,
tasting the blood that had been pounded from his nose.  He thrashed
helplessly, suspended as he was with this pants around his ankles.

Sarcone moved in close, again grabbing Garrett's cock and balls, twisting
painfully. "Whatta ya say we operate on the little homo," he leaned
in close to Garrett's bloodied face. "You got no use for this, no girl
would ever let a little geek like you lay her, right Jane?"

Jane smiled, still glued to Randy's side.  "Gross!  I'd NEVER let that
little creep touch me!"

Garrett twisted, "Nooooo!" he squealed, petrified at the mere mention
of castration.

Randy pushed Jane away from his side.

"C'mon, I'm ready."

A low chant started building at the back of the cluster of boys
bearing witness to the unfolding scene.

"Spear the queer, Spear The Queer!"
"spear the queer, SPEAR THE QUEER!"

Garrett felt his heart rise in his throat; he didn't think he could
breathe.  Horribly, deadly afraid of what he knew was coming next.

Chic dragged Garrett to the picnic table and with the help of Hugh,
they slammed him face down so he was bent down over the end, his naked
groin flush against the splintered wood, so short that his feet
dangled just above the ground, his pants still twisted around his
ankles.  They pinned his arms to either side of the table, and Randy
stepped up behind Garrett's exposed buttocks, his cock straining
against the zipper of his fly.

The chanting of the circled boys grew louder, as Randy grasped the
helpless youth's cheeks in each of his big hands and pried them lewdly
apart, exposing the crinkled bud of Garrett's asshole to the cold
night breeze.  

"Shit he's got a tighter little butt than you, Jane!"  Randy laughed.
Jane slapped him, but she was laughing, crowding in next to Randy,
anxious for the best view.

Randy took the bottle of beer Jane had been holding for him, and
abruptly thrust the neck of it through Garrett's sphincter muscle.
The gathered team members whooped appreciatively.

"This BUTT's for YOU!" one of the crowd hollered out, to an
appreciative roar of laughter.  

Garrett yelped and twisted, more startled than in pain at the novel
sensation of the cold smooth glass and warm beer filling his ass.
Randy pumped the neck of the bottle slowly into Garrett's behind,
watching as the beer slowly drained, most of it remaining in the
bottle until he pulled it from Garrett's ass to spill between the
cracks of his cheeks and run down his legs to collect in his pants
crumpled around his ankles.

The crowd picked up the chant again, demanding action.

"SPEAR THE QUEER, SPEAR THE QUEER!"  

"SPEAR THE QUEER, SPEAR THE QUEER!"

"You ever seen a little fairy take it up the ass?"  Randy asked Jane,
as he opened his fly and let his stiff cock loose to dance in the
moonlight.

Jane stared, transfixed, at her boyfriend's dancing rod, shaking her
head no.

Without warning, Randy grabbed his cock with one hand, pulling
Garrett's buttocks apart with the other, and plunged the rubbery head
through the youth's tight virgin sphincter.  Garrett shrieked and
twisted in agony as the cockhead split his rosebud, the myriad nerve
endings in his tight little ass-muscle franticly firing pain signals
at his brain.  His rectum clutched at the intruder, instinctively
responding to the horrible burning pain growing in intensity, trying
to expel Randy's cock as it burrowed relentlessly up into his innards.

Garrett writhed furiously, helplessly impaled, as the High School
quarterback leaned his weight into his efforts, managing to bury his
cock half-way into Garrett's smooth young pre-pubescent ass, as the
rest of the team shouted encouragement to their captain.

"Grind his cherry little ass!"  Hugh shouted, from where he and Chic
held Garrett to the table.

Randy grabbed Garrett's cheeks and grunted appreciatively.  Pulling
nearly out, he slammed the full length of his cock back into Garrett's
gut, his balls, swollen with lust, slapping against Garrett's rapidly
shrinking testes, groaning as Garrett wailed and pulled and twisted
his hips in a futile effort to dislodge the pole burrowing into his
nether region.

"Oh God, baby, that's the way to fuck me back," Randy moaned, driving
his dick insistently into the small boy pinned beneath him, the
agonized writhing of his unwilling fuck partner caressing the length
of his shaft.

"Do me good, you little pansy," Randy moaned, leaning over the boy
beneath him as he slammed the length of his prick in and out of his
clutching anus.  "You shoulda been a girl, you really know how to take
cock."

Randy picked a rhythm, pounding his meat into the tight warm depths of
Garrett's rear, his lust-swollen balls slapping against Garrett's
young undeveloped testes as his shaft sunk into the soft depths of
Garrets' skinny ass, the weather-worn picnic table lurching in tempo
to his driving thrusts.  Randy kept a beat with the bellowing teens
urging him on clapping and chanting in rhythm with his pistoning hips,
Jane at his side yelling encouragement, Garrett's tortured screams as
his virgin rectum was brutally violated keeping a sharp accompaniment.

"Oh Goddddd...." Randy moaned, pushing himself further and harder,
faster and more wildly, splitting Garrett's ass nearly in two as he
felt his nuts tighten; the jism boiled up, shooting through the length
of his cock, bubbling out into the warm depths of Garrett's butt, as
Randy frenziedly fucked as hard as he could, driving Garrett's groin
into the edge of the wooden table with a vicious force.

Strong hands pulled Randy out of Garrett, his cock still hard and
dribbling cum.  Garrett started screaming anew as the huge meaty hands
of Bull Olsciewski, biggest nose tackle in the conference, gripped his
hips in preparation for his turn at Garrett's fresh little butt.

"Yeah Bull!"  Randy cheered his team-mate on, too drunk, stoned, and
spent to care that he was stuffing the filthy length of his softening
dick, still coated with the cum and shit of Garrett's no longer virgin
ass, back into his pants.

"Spear the fucking QUEER!"  the guys waiting their turn at Freshman
Meat picked up the chant again.

Bull leaned his full 285 pumped-up pounds over the prone boy and
rammed the length of his stiff meat deep into Garrett's chute.
Garrett howled in agony, the origin of Bull's nickname becoming
apparent as Bull's huge cock tore relentlessly into Garrett's rectum,
stretching it's tortured walls impossibly wide, threatening to rip his
sphincter apart by it's sheer girth.

Bull grabbed the shrieking boy by the hips; rather than humping down
into the ass impaled by his cock, he grabbed Garrett's hips and pulled
the boy back onto his shaft, fucking him back and forth along the
length of his meat, using him brutally, with no more concern than he
would an inflatable doll.  Garrett howled hysterically, his rectum
nearly pulled inside out on each back-stroke.  Bull, his cock bigger
around than Garrett's wrist, might as well have been fist-fucking him.
Blood coated the raping bludgeon battering Garrett's asshole, but the
football player took no notice, pumping the twisting boy back and
forth along his prick as the guys holding Garrett down laughed
incredulously.

"Holy fuck, look at him go!"  Hugh howled, laughing wildly at the
sight of Bull's enormous rod slamming in and out of their captive's
ass.  "It's a fucking BASEBALL BAT!"

"It's splitting his fucking ass right in two!"  Chic marvelled.
"Jesus I hope Bull doesn't fucking KILL him before I get my turn!"

Bull grunted; with a final savage thrust he shot his cum inside the
boy sprouting from his groin, and slipped his mammoth dick from
Garrett's ravaged ass, slapping Garrett's butt-cheeks as his sphincter
winked relief, blood and semen trailing from it's depths to run down
the back of his balls.

"Tight ass kid," Bull grunted his appreciation, stepping away from the
table to give the next player a turn.



It was going to be a long night ahead for Garrett.



Dave Lawrence demanded his turn next. "Fuck you," he bellowed, shoving
Frank Sarcone away from the line of sight of Garrett's hole as he
prepared to enter.  "I drove the goddamn van that scored us this
little faggot Freshman piece of ass."

Randy pulled Sarcone away from Dave, as the guys waiting not so
patiently began to holler and choose sides.

"Fuck, the little bitch isn't going anywhere, give Dave his turn."
Randy was the captain, they did what he said out of habit.

"You're next, Sarcone, since you're hosting and your kid brother put
us on to this piece of Freshman meat."  Randy was pleased with the way
things were going, it was turning into a good "event", carrying on the
East Rutherford homecoming tradition of boning the Freshman class
geek.  "Then Chic and Marlowe and Hugh, they were on the raid.  The
rest of you JUNIOR assholes can duke it out among yourselves."

Dave already had his dick pistoning away in Garrett's backside, about
ready to come.  He grunted, shot his load, and pulled out, dribbling
cum and more blood, quickly stuffing his withering cock into his
jeans.

Sarcone shoved Dave out of the way as soon as he'd come, and quickly
rammed his stiff bone into Garrett's ass as Garrett cried out weakly;
waves of pain tearing through the lower half of his body as cock after
brutal cock split his cheeks, scraping the walls of his rectum,
brutally driving his hairless, unprotected groin into the splintered
edge of the decrepit table.  Sarcone came quickly; Chic, then Marlowe,
took their turns poling Garrett's ass, drawing more blood from his
ravaged interior.

Hugh stepped up for his turn, as one of the waiting Juniors took
Hugh's place pinning Garrett to the table.

"I know this little faggot, he hangs out with that fucking A.V.
lard-ass, that fucking gross fat Abe kid that lives next door to
me."  Hugh smiled as inspiration struck him.

"Roll him over guys," he instructed the two holding Garrett to the
table.  "I wanna fuck him on his back, like a GIRL, pull his shirt off
so I can feel his titties."

The guys holding Garrett to the table happily complied, rolling
Garrett over on his back, his ass hanging over the edge of the table,
his hairless groin scraped raw from being pounded into the splintered
wood as cock after cock pounded into him from behind.  Garrett's
captors pulled his t-shirt off over his head; he was in so much pain
he hardly struggled as he was stripped completely naked.  Hugh had
pulled off Garrett's socks, shoes, jeans; he wanted a clear shot at
his ass.

"God you are a skinny little puke!"  Hugh grinned.  He stepped up
between Garrett's legs, grabbing him behind the knees, pushing his
legs up and to the side of his body.  

Garrett was by now sobbing uncontrollably, tears rolling down the
sides of his face.  "pl.. pl-pleeeease!"  he begged, "please please
d-d-d-d-don't..."  his begging trailed of into a high-pitched wail as
Hugh speared his cock into Garrett's ass and started humping
vigorously into the warm wet depths of Garrett's rectum, generously
lubricated with the cum of six others.

"Onnhh God!"  Hugh grunted appreciatively.  He let go of Garrett's
legs and leaned over his body, his face hovering over Garrett's.

"Oh GoD, FUck me BABY!"  Hugh rasped, his damp beer-soaked breath
hanging like a cloud over Garrett's face, as he bullied his tool up
into the boy pinned beneath his hairy young loins.  "Milk my dick with
your tight little ass..."

Garrett arched his back and shrieked as Hugh boned him; the new
position allowed Hugh to penetrate more deeply than any of the others
had, and he humped with an especial violence, grinding more splinters
from the rotted picnic into the soft pink flesh of Garrett's buttocks
with each raping thrust.

Standing up again, his cock still churning frantically in Garrett's
depths, Hugh grabbed Garrett's nipples, pinching and twisting the hard
little nubs so that Garrett screamed with a renewed vigor.  He
scratched and clawed at Garrett's skinny undeveloped chest, as if
grabbing a woman's breast; he alternately slapped and twisted and
squeezed Garrett's balls, pinching the small head of Garrett's limp
little cock, all the while humping up into Garrett's ass like a wild
dog on a bitch in heat.

"Oh man, you're a hot little bitch," Hugh moaned and grunted, fucking
frenziedly, his bone pushing insistently into Garrett, sliding him
back and forth on the rough surface of the picnic table, as the
remaining team members still waiting their turn watched intently,
admiring Hugh's style.

He pulled out of Garrett's ass, in time to squirt a thick load of
sperm the length of Garrett's pale skinny torso.  Garrett wailed
pitifully as the cum splattered his puny body; the boys holding him
down laughed and backed away from the flying jizz.

"Goddamn!"  one of them laughed.  "Grease the little faggot up for the
rest of us."

Hugh reached out and twisted Garrett's nipples, laughing as Garrett
choked and sobbed, his eyes tightly shut, avoiding Hugh's face that
had hovered so close to his.

"You're a natural fuckin' butt-slut ... you're sure you don't want us to
cut your cock off, make you a REAL girl??"  Hugh laughed, stuffing his
prick back into his pants, smiling as Garrett twisted and shrieked
hysterically as the next cock forced its way into his body.

Hugh went off to find another beer, see what the rest of the seniors
were up to, as one boy after another took their turn poling Garrett.


*
*
*


Three men from the city grounds crew found the boy around 5:30am, lying
on the grass next to the big pond in front of the municipal building
wearing an East Rutherford Senior class t-shirt, three sizes too big,
his jeans around his knees, the exposed portions of his body chafed,
bloodied, and filthy.  He was conscious; he shrieked and covered his
genitals with his hands when they tried to talk to him.  They radioed
dispatch to call the cops.

"Fuckin' rich ass mo-fos, tell ME about gang violence," one of the men
muttered to the others.

"No fucking shit, I thought I seen everything till I started this
job," one of his partners agreed.  "These rich white bastards do some
sick shit don't get in the papers like when brothers do that shit."

"My fucking cousin Ray TOLD me 'bout this fuckin' town the weird shit
you find."  The first one was still muttering, to no-one in parti-
cular.  "Didn't fucking believe the bastard he told me what he heard
'bout the damn football team."

The truck drove off as the cops arrived.

Something to tell the guys down the bar after the shift was over.

Yeah.