Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2008 08:00:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jasper Cooper <jax.cooper@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Downfall of Nate Ramsey (authoritarian)

                 THE DOWNFALL OF NATE RAMSEY

This story is a gay fantasy; no part of it is based in fact,
and none of the characters are intended to resemble real
persons. This story chronicles the humiliating ordeals an 18-
year-old high school senior is unwillingly subjected to.
Some of these humiliations have a strong sexual component.
This chapter is hopefully the first of a few, and it mainly
deals with setting the scene for further humiliation. If you
are underage, or do not want to read about such matters, you
should leave this webpage at once. Assuming you do not fall
into either category (and you should not made it this far if
you did), I bid you: onward!

--------------------------

CHAPTER ONE:
"Fools and their clothes are soon parted"


Nathan Ramsey never saw it coming. One moment, he was a
rising star in his high school, envied by his peers for his
basketball prowess and the ease with which he drew the
lustful attentions of countless girls. The next, he was a
laughing stock among his peers, stripped of not only his
clothes, but also his dignity.

It all began with a bet. Nate and his basketball teammates
were gathered on the court in the wooded park near their
school. They were playing more for fun than for practice; it
was a Friday, they had a long weekend ahead of them, and no
one was in the mood for a serious game so soon after their
latest victory. The previous weekend, the team had advanced
to the semifinals after a hard-fought game with their
biggest rivals, the Beavers. Their win had come almost at
the last minute, and it had been Nate who had scored the
winning point. No one denied that he had been an integral
factor to their triumph; however, not everyone was pleased
to hear him brag about it afterward, especially when he
claimed full credit for the winning shot, to the exclusion
of the other players who had made it possible.

On any other day, and in any other situation, the team might
have cut him some slack. It was Nate after all, arguably the
team's star player. And who didn't tend to exaggerate one's
own prowess, especially when there were girls around waiting
to be impressed? But this time it was different: there were
no girls on the sidelines, only a group of freshmen players
who were listening to Nate's embellished narrative with awed
looks on their faces. If Nate were allowed to continue, they
weren't going to have any respect for the other players.
That was the final straw.

"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, Ramsey?"
said Owen Montrose, a senior not renowned for his patience,
least of all with Nate. Owen's first girlfriend had dumped
him for Nate, a fact that Nate didn't hesitate to rub his
nose in. If anyone had a grudge against Nate, it would be
the tall, pale-skinned redhead.

The few players who were actually playing stopped abruptly.
All eyes were on Nate, wondering how he would respond to
Owen's taunt. The air was suddenly rife with tension.

Nate turned to face Owen, his eyes narrowed. "What the
fuck's that supposed to mean, Monty?"

Owen's face flushed with anger; no one ever called him
Monty. He clenched his fists but managed to control himself
from retaliating physically. Stepping closer to Nate, he
sneered, "Well, since you're apparently such a dimwit, I'll
explain my meaning to you." This time it was Nate's turn to
look furious. Ignoring him, Owen continued, "Without the
rest of this team, you couldn't have scored that winning
point - or any point for that matter."

"Oh yeah?" Nate sneered back. The group of devoted freshman
at his back gave him confidence. "I could've flattened those
Beavers flying solo. Hell, I could beat any team by myself -
this one included. And let's face it Monty, I'm not just
talking about on the court."

Owen's face contorted into an ugly mask of rage and he took
another step forward. The rest of the team, who'd been
quietly observing thus far, now crowded behind him. From the
disgusted looks on his teammates' faces, it suddenly
occurred to Nate that his remark about being able to beat
their own team hadn't been the smartest thing to say. He
would've taken it back, except that it would have meant
losing face with his freshman fans, who were also watching
the argument intently. And that was one thing he couldn't
afford to do.

Things would probably have gotten ugly, if Wes Stanford
hadn't intervened. In his capacity as team captain, the
handsome blond teenager took it upon himself to mediate the
matter to a peaceful conclusion. Nate had always considered
himself to be the prime candidate for the captaincy, and had
therefore been surprised when the coach had chosen Wes over
him. Nate had overlooked a key fact: Wes, although not as
talented as Nate, was a team player, and far more popular
among his teammates. The coach had privately thought that
Nate was far too arrogant, and that the captaincy would only
serve to alienate him further from the team. As it turned
out, he'd already done that.

Nate also didn't know one other thing about Wes, and that
was that he was bisexual. In fact, no one knew that. Wes's
blond good looks had attracted his fair share of female
admirers, although he was by no means the hottest boy in the
senior year. No, that was an honor that belonged to Nate.
Jet-black hair coupled with intense blue eyes marked a
strong, angular face. And then there was that body ... Nate
was notoriously shy when it came to revealing that beautiful
body, even in the locker rooms. He always changed with a
towel around his waist, and when he showered it was always
in the end cubicle. Many a boy, straight ones included, had
longed to sneak a peek over to cubicle wall to see what Nate
was hiding, but not dared to lest they be labeled as `fags'.
A malicious rumor claimed that he was less than adequately
endowed, but the bulge in his pants said differently.

Wes was one of those boys. Nate had fascinated him for a
very long time. The first time he'd realized he was
attracted to men as well as women, was when he'd been
jerking off and an image came to his mind. Nate, hot and
sweaty after a practice, wearing only a towel slung low on
his hips ... In his mind's eye he could see the rivulets of
sweat making their way down Nate's chiseled torso, between
the hard ridges of his abs, pooling in his navel before
following the trail of fine, dark hair that led down to what
was, until that day, a treasure of his wildest imaginings.

Wes had cum right then, and he had known. Ever since then,
he had made every effort to catch Nate in various states of
undress without seeming too obvious. The one time he had
found Nate about to slip off his tight, white boxer-briefs
in an empty locker room was a fond memory he replayed over
and over during his jerk-off fantasies. Of course, Nate had
hurriedly reached for a towel once he saw Wes come in, and
Wes had not seen more than the top of Nate's muscular butt
and a couple inches of his hairy crack.

But still the memory of it was sufficient to give Wes a hard-
on, and he was glad for the jockstrap he had on underneath
his basketball kit which keeping his shorts from tenting
lewdly. Despite the tense atmosphere, Wes allowed his eyes
to briefly rake Nate's purple basketball vest and saw the
lightly-tanned, well-defined chest that lay beneath it.
Flicking his gaze downwards he caught the bulge in the thin
material of Nate's yellow shorts and subconsciously licked
his lips. If he played this right, his fantasy could very
shortly become a reality.

"Come on guys, let's not fight. We can settle this
amicably," he said finally.

Owen hesitated; only his respect for the popular captain's
authority prevented him from ripping Nate a new one. "Yeah?
How?" he asked.

"A one-on-one game," Wes replied calmly. "We're basketball
players, right? So we'll settle this like basketball
players." The rest of the team nodded their agreement, and
Wes continued, "If Nate is the first guy to score ten points
against a team representative, then we'll acknowledge his
basketball skill as superior."

Relief washed over Nate. He was confident in his abilities
against any of his teammates and had little doubt that he
would win this game, although he did wonder who the team
representative would be.

It seemed the question was also on his teammates' minds.
"Who's gonna represent the team?" asked Dave, one of the
juniors on the team.

"I will," said Owen at once. He threw Nate a dirty look. "I
can't wait to wipe the floor with this son of a bitch."

Wes had anticipated this, and he also knew Owen didn't stand
a chance against Nate. However, he did take note of Owen's
enthusiasm to bring Nate down, and decided he might just
have found himself an ally. But for now he needed to fight
this battle himself.

"I think it's best if our representative doesn't have a
personal grudge against Nate. In the interest of fairness,
you know." He gave Owen an apologetic look before adding,
"And since I'm the team captain, and it was me that
suggested this solution ..." He looked around at his
teammates for support.

Jason, a friend of Wes's on the team, spoke up. "I support
Wes as our representative." The rest of the team slowly
nodded their assent. The majority of them were concerned as
to whether any candidate could actually beat Nate, and
whether they were doomed to acknowledge Nate's superiority
on the court.

Wes turned back to Nate and smiled. "Well then, it's agreed.
You and me, one-on-one."

"Hold on a sec," interrupted Troy, the openly gay member of
the team. "What's his forfeit if he loses?"

Wes's smile widened imperceptibly; his plan was falling into
place. Nate, meanwhile, felt a faint trepidation when he had
no cause to.

Wes shrugged casually, making his suggestion of the forfeit
with calculated carelessness. "The loser has to run one lap
around the park ..."

Nate let out the breath he had not realized he was holding,
before it dawned on him that such a simple feat could hardly
be the extent of the forfeit. He was right; Wes was not
finished.

"... naked." As Wes completed his sentence, Nate had a
sinking feeling in his stomach. Of all the possible
forfeits, why did it have to be that one?

Putting on an air of bravado he decided to protest. "That's
a little unbalanced, don't you think? If you lose, all you
have to do is say a few words, but if I lose, I have to
strip naked?"

Wes had been expecting this argument, and had readied
himself for it. "Well if it makes you happy, I'm prepared to
strip if I lose." He wasn't lying either; all the guys on
the court had seen him naked in the locker rooms before. And
it was a small price to pay, if the reverse outcome would
have the object of his fantasy naked and vulnerable. "So,
we're agreed then?"

Nate had no choice but to nod. He couldn't back away from
the bet because it would seem like he was afraid of losing.
And that was obviously not going to happen. He'd win, and
then that smartass Wes would be the one to get naked. It
would serve him right, for thinking up that dumb forfeit in
the first place, not to mention robbing him of his rightful
captaincy. "Agreed," he said tightly.

"Jase, do you want to be the referee?" asked Wes, and
received a nod in reply. He turned back to Nate and tossed
the ball at him. "Let's do this then."

                            &&&&&

Half an hour later Nate wondered where it had all gone
wrong. He'd been surprised to find Wes was pretty evenly
matched with him, although he'd still had the upper hand.
But the knot of nervousness in his stomach, the thought at
the back of his mind about the consequences of his loss,
distracted him more than he realized. And Wes was playing
harder than he'd ever done in his life. After all, he had
the strongest motivation: Nate's ass was a far sweeter prize
than any interschool trophy.

Wes's winning slam dunk was greeted with cheers from the
spectators, and horror from Nate. He'd lost ... and he'd
have to strip naked. Naked in front of players who'd be
delighted to see him taken down a peg or two, naked in front
of freshmen who'd been his adoring fans only moments ago.

He didn't notice he was surrounded again by the other
players. "Looks like you have a forfeit to pay up," said
Owen, not bothering to hide his smirk.

Nate laughed nervously. "C'mon guys, you weren't serious
about running round the park naked, right?"

His only reply was hard stares. He swallowed nervously and
looked around, for any sign of sympathy, but there was none.
Nate had been a jerk one time too many. Even the freshmen
were eager to see the arrogant jock have his comeuppance.

Maybe he wouldn't have to strip all the way. Just down to
his underwear. Naked in the context of bets usually meant
underwear was allowed, right? But even as he thought that
his heart sank. Today of all days he'd chosen to forgo his
customary boxers for his only pair of bikini briefs. They
provided better support for sports, but they were also much
skimpier: the inch-thick waistband was the only material at
the sides.

"Dude, we don't have all day!" snapped Parker, shaking him
out of his reverie.

Troy waggled his eyebrows suggestively at him. "Or are we
going to have to strip you ourselves?"

There were some snickers at this, and Nate found himself
turning red. "Fuck you," he mumbled, and reached for the hem
of his vest. There was a collective intake of breath among
the crowd; he was actually going to do it!

Nate pulled the vest over his head, the muscles in his
stomach flexing as he did so. No one would admit it to him -
he was cocky enough as it was - but Nate's abs were a thing
of beauty. Each abdominal muscle was rock hard and perfectly
formed, with a very light dusting of fine black hair. The
treasure trail grew thicker below his navel and bisected the
V of his Apollo's belt before disappearing into the
waistband of his briefs. Not for the first time did the guys
think that Nate had a perfectly proportioned body; it was a
pity he was such an ass.

Nate tossed the vest aside, trying his best to pretend
nonchalance. Wes noted with amusement (and a rush of blood
to his groin) that the large, dark nipple that crowned each
of Nate's sculptured pecs was slightly erect due to the
evening chill. The smattering of hair in the middle of his
chest was plastered to his skin by sweat.

Nate kicked off his shoes without looking up from his feet.
He couldn't meet the gazes of his fellow players, for he
could already feel their contempt without seeing it. For the
first he wished he had been a little less arrogant, and a
little more sympathetic. He might have had some supporters
if he had. But the truth was he didn't, and that left him on
a basketball court, wearing just his shorts and surrounded
by a bunch of guys who had every reason to dislike him.

He took a deep breath (and the crowd with him) and shoved
his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts. Whatever he
did, he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of
knowing how much this got to him.

"Get a move on already," said Ethan impatiently. "It's
getting cold."

"I think Nathaniel is a little shy," remarked Owen slyly.

Nate furiously shoved his shorts down in one quick motion,
revealing the form-fitting black bikini briefs he had on
underneath. But if he'd hoped to silence his detractors, he
was wrong. The removal of his shorts was greeted with
raucous cheers and a couple of wolf-whistles.

"Sexy undies there, Ramsey," smirked Drew. Wes had a
fabulous view of Nate's side profile and eyed it with
approval.

The color rose in Nate's cheeks, and he gritted his teeth as
he stepped out of his shorts and slipped his shoes back on.
"Alright, let's get this over with." He started to move
across the court, towards the jogging trail that wound
through the park, but the line of basketball players in
front of him didn't give way.

"Uh, you do know what `naked' means, don't you, Ramsey? Or
are you really that much of a dimwit?" asked Owen, baring
his teeth in a smile not unlike a wolf that has scented its
prey.

Nate shot an incredulous look at his nemesis. "You've got to
be fucking kidding me. You don't expect me to cross the park
in the nude!"

"I'm afraid that's exactly what we expect," replied Owen.

"You made the bet, you've got to honor it," pointed out
Troy.

Nate looked from one guy to another, and then said, "Fuck
you guys. I'll do the one lap because that's what I
promised, but that's it. No way am I doing it naked." He
turned back to the guys blocking the way to the jogging
trail. "Now let me through, so I can get this over with."

It happened so fast that Nate didn't know what hit him. The
moment he tried to push his way out, at least half a dozen
guys pounced on him, tackling him to the floor. He struggled
wildly against them, trying to prevent them for ripping off
the sole garment that protected his modesty, but he was no
match for so many of his fellow players intent on their
purpose of stripping him completely. Wes stood aside, not
part of the skirmish on the floor, but close enough to be
able to savour every detail: the muscles in Nate's powerful
thighs straining as he tried to fight off his assailants,
the black thatch of pubic hair so tantalizingly revealed
every time the briefs slipped ... and the ultimate prize,
when they were wrenched off completely, with a victorious
cry, by Owen.

Nate's struggles ceased the moment he felt the cool air
embrace his genitals. He knew the battle had been lost, and
he was naked in front of the people who had looked up to him
- perhaps they had also hated him - but they had been
grudgingly impressed nonetheless. His cheeks burned red with
shame as the shock wore off, as he heard the raucous
laughter, the lewd comments:

"I see why you've been hiding that thing, Ramsey."

"Sure you aren't feeling cold?"

"That's a bloody forest you've got down there."

He wished the ground would open up and swallow him. He had
always tried, and succeeded, in avoiding public nudity. It
was just something so intensely private that he did not feel
comfortable about being naked in front of other guys. And to
have that comfort stripped from him so unceremoniously, in
front of twenty of his peers in the middle of what was
usually his domain, was the ultimate indignity.

Wes, meanwhile, had discreetly observed that despite the
mean-spirited remarks, Nate was quite adequately endowed.
His dick lay limp against his left thigh, at least five and
a half inches long and its thickness was certainly above
average. Nate was circumcised, like many of their
generation. There was a thick thatch of black pubic hair
surrounding his dick. Wes was quite disappointed that, when
the guys released Nate's hands, he quickly moved them to
cover his groin.

Nate scrambled to his feet, keeping his hands firmly over
his crotch, and demanded, "Give back my clothes, you
bastards!"

Owen tutted. "Language, Nathaniel, language." He casually
tossed Nate's briefs into the air and caught it again.

Nate snarled and rushed at Owen, but the other guys were
quicker, moving forward to shield Owen. Nate saw that anger
wasn't going to win him back his clothes. He tried again.
"Okay, guys, you've had your laugh. Now can I please have my
clothes back?"

Wes decided it was time to retake control of the situation.
"What do you guys think?" he asked, looking around the
circle. How the rest of Nate's humiliation played out
depended on their response.

He stifled his sigh of relief when almost every single guy
shook his head. He turned back to Nate with an apologetic
expression on his face. "Sorry, Nate - no can do. Maybe if
you complete your end of the forfeit ..."

Nate gulped. "You mean ... run one lap round the park?" Wes
nodded.

"I can't!" protested Nate. "I'm naked! What if someone sees
me?"

"Uh, Nate? Maybe you didn't notice, but you've just been
seen naked by twenty guys," pointed out Troy with a grin.

The reminder made Nate blush again, and he opened his mouth
to plead his case once more.

Before he could, Jason cut in. "Look, Nate. The faster you
finish the lap, the faster you can get your clothes back."

Nate realized Jason was right; the longer he stood there
arguing, the more likely someone was to come across the
scene. He knew better than to expect sympathy from a crowd
eager to witness his downfall. Without a word, he turned
around, and this time, the circle parted to allow him
through.

He took a deep breath, working up his nerve, and then took
off jogging. Wes admired the unobstructed view of Nate's ass
(he was choosing to keep his hands firmly glued in front his
crotch. Watching those pale, muscular globes bouncing with
every step that he took, Wes's dick grew achingly hard. The
desire to stick his dick up that ass was even more intense.

"Maybe someone should follow him, make sure he actually
completes the lap. You know, not take any shortcuts?" piped
up one of the freshmen suddenly, a rather short but very
cute blond by the name of Devlin.

Wes doubted that Nate would deviate from the jogging trail;
it was getting dark and he didn't have a stitch of clothing
on except for his shoes and socks. But he saw the hopeful
look in Devlin's eyes and suspected the proposition had more
to do with watching that fuckable ass in motion, than
ensuring Nate's strict adherence to the terms of their bet.

He smiled; who was he to deny such a request? "Actually,
that's a good idea. Troy, maybe you want to go with him?"

Troy looked surprised at the mention of his name, but
grinned widely as he realized the view he would be enjoying.
"Sure, boss. C'mon Dev, we'd better catch up." The two boys
jogged off in pursuit of Nate, who had disappeared from
sight as the trail went deeper into the woods.

Wes heard the sound of laughter and quickly found for its
source. Owen and a few friends were laughing over something
in the branches of a nearby tree. Following their gaze he
saw Nate's bikini briefs hanging where they had been tossed,
no doubt by Owen. Wes's brow furrowed; Owen was his best bet
of gaining an ally in extending Nate's humiliation beyond
the court, and getting a shot at that ass, but how could he
bring it about?

The ringing of a cell phone distracted him from his
thoughts. He looked down and saw Nate's bag at his feet. Not
really paying attention to what he was doing, he crouched
down and extricated Nate's phone from the bag. He had
received a text message. As he read it his eyes widened, and
so did his grin. It could not have been better! Lady Luck
was shining down upon him.

"Hey Wes, what do you think about tossing the rest of Nate's
clothes up the tree?" asked Owen.

"Yeah, can you imagine the Youtube video we could get of him
trying to get them down?"

"In his birthday suit!" added Drew.

Not to be outdone, Parker came up with a rhyme. "Nathan
Ramsey, climbing up a tree, B-U-C-K N-A-K-" Everyone around
him was shaking with laughter before he could finish the
hilariously bad rhyme.

Wes smiled at them, the best he could without appearing to
be condescending. Really, their ideas were so childish with
no long-term planning. He was going to change that.
"Actually guys, maybe you need to have a look at this." He
showed the text message to Owen and the guys who'd gathered
around curiously.

Owen looked up from the screen, eyes bright. "Are you
thinking what I'm thinking?"

Wes affected innocence. "You tell me, man."

The grin on Owen's face grew wider. "I say let's bring the
son of a bitch down another peg or two."

As he heard the chorus of cheers Wes smiled inwardly. Things
were going even better than he could've hoped for in his
wildest dreams. The downfall of Nate Ramsey was not over,
not by a long shot.

                     To be continued (?)

If you liked the story and would like to read more, do let
me know at jax.cooper@yahoo.com
----------------------------------
Copyright 2008 Jasper X. Cooper.  All Rights Reserved.