Date: Tue, 10 Feb 2004 13:48:37 EST
From: ArtHill579@aol.com
Subject: "High School Blues" part 10

Disclaimer: This story is basically a fantasy involving humiliation, mild
violence, and sexual activity between teenage boys. If you find such
material offensive or in violation of the laws of your state/country,
please don't read any further.

(c) Art M. Hill ArtHill579@aol.com All rights reserved (2004).
If you enjoy this story, please email me.

*********************************************

"High School Blues" part 10: Joe gets another nickname...

I can remember sharing several more beers with Jimmy, Mike and the guys.
They pretty much ignored me unless it was to look at me and laugh. They had
helped me put my clothes back on, leaving the condom on my dick which was
still hard as steel and tenting my pants. After they had bullshitted for
awhile and had a few more rounds of beer Shawn said to Mike:

"So when are you gonna let me go a few rounds with "Pinky"?

"Pinky!" he chuckled. "Hey, that would be a good name for the fag except we
decided he would be changing his hair color every month. What are we gonna
call him next month-- Goldy?" Sound of laughing.

"Yeah, yeah," said Shawn impatiently. "Whatever. Now what about the match?
I got a score to settle with this fag and I can't wait forever. When do I
get to leather him?" He looked at me, flexed his biceps, and winked.

"Real soon now," Mike said. "Maybe next Saturday. I want to see that
myself. But I just got another idea. Did ya hear what the fag said about
Greenburg's exercise room. He must have some awesome equipment in that
basement. What do you say we 'borrow it'-- permanently!"

"Cool," said Jimmy. "You got shit in here. This sure ain't no Bally's. I
couldn't even exercise my big toe in here," he snickered.

"Watch it, shithead," scowled Mike. "It's been good enough for you up to
now."

"Yeah," said Brad, " but I'd love to get my hands on some good exercise
equipment. It would be awesome to set up a real gym. I'd be down here
24/7."

"Twenty-five bucks a week, buddy," Mike shot back.

"Sure Mike, in your dreams. But what if we get caught? Greenburg could
probably beat the shit out of any one of us; you add Mahoney and it's
E.R. time for sure."

"Listen, man, I can take Greenburg; believe it" he said as he flexed his
biceps. "But it ain't gonna come to that. We'll do it when nobody's
home. We'll get the fag to find out when they'll be away. He already told
me that they go on camping trips sometimes and they're gone for a whole
weekend at a time. That should give us plenty of time to clean the place
out; maybe even pick up some extra cash."

Brad still wasn't convinced. "Man, what if we get busted by the cops. I
sure as hell don't want to spend the next few years behind bars."

"What a pussy," said Jimmy. "Look, we're gonna be real careful. There's an
old dirt road that runs through the woods right behind High Street. I've
been through there; never knew Greenburg's house was so close. Nobody'll
see us; we'll wait until it's nice and dark; we'll wear dark clothes
too. Just like fuckin' James Bond, man. The fag said there was a back door
into the basement. It's perfect. We can move the equipment across the back
lawn and right into the van. When the Greenburgs get back it'll look like
an ordinary burglary-which it is," laughed Jimmy. "We'll never get caught
AND we'll have an awesome set of machines to keep our abs in top form!"

"Yeah," laughed Brad. "We'll have to have some top notch abs just to move
that shit."

"Will you dude's quit you're damn whining. It's all gonna work out like I
said. We just gotta make sure Pinky, I mean Zits, doesn't find out and rat
on us," Mike warned. "He's been tight with those two assholes. Like I said,
he's their cocksucker.  But, hey, he's so damn stupid we can get the info
we need out of him and he'll never know the difference."

While this conversation was going on, I was still in a semi-conscious
state. They had put something in my beer to keep me in la-la land. I heard
them talking, but it didn't make any sense. All I really heard was
something about "Pinky" and then a lot of laughing. I was so sleepy I could
hardly keep my eyes open. "The next thing I knew somebody was shaking me:

"Wake up, Zits. Time for us to get you home. You've had a wee-ally busy day
for yourself. We wouldn't want your mommy and daddy to get mad and spank
you." It was Mike's voice.

"Yeah," said Brad, "I think he's been spanked enough for one day."
Laughter all around.

The guys dragged me out to Shawn's van. Shawn and Brad drove me home.
About a block away from my house they stopped and pushed me out of the van
along with my backpack.

"Bet your folks will love your new look, Pinky. They'll probably throw a
fuckin' party for you," said Shawn.

Coming out of my fog, I had no idea what had happened to me. I did
recognize my street, and began walking unsteadily toward my house. I turned
around and saw the guys grinning at me. "Thanks for the ride. See you guys
at school on Monday," I said.

"You can count on it, Pinky!" Shawn yelled. Then the wheels on the van
squealed and the motor belched out smoke as they tore off down the street.

"Huh," I thought to myself. "Wasn't there something else I was supposed to
be doing this afternoon." Then I felt my backpack, which was heavier than I
remembered, and vaguely wondered if I was supposed to be at Bob's house
this afternoon for practice. "No, I think maybe that's tomorrow. I'll call
him when I get inside and check for sure."

Nothing could have prepared me for the reaction of mom and dad when I
walked in the door. What was wrong? I hadn't violated my curfew. It was
only 7:30 pm, and they already said it would be okay to have dinner with
Bob and Terry after practice...SHIT!  Practice was today! What had
happened? I could hardly remember a thing; just some jumbled images about
walking through the woods toward Bob's house and hearing some
motorcycles. It was Mike, Jimmy and their buds. I had run into them in the
woods.  Something had happened. I remember pain in my butt and back (I
still felt it.) Had I fallen? My thoughts began to break up as my concern
returned to my missed exercise appointment and the horrified look on my
parents faces.

"What the hell have you done to yourself now!?" dad said with an angry look
on his face.  My sister Michelle peeked out the door and started giggling
hysterically.  "Answer me, Joe, I've had just about enough of this idiotic
behavior of yours. You weren't brought up to be a punk or some kind of
freak. So what's with the damn hair? And what's that white stuff all over
your face; it almost looks like..."

For a moment I had no idea what he was talking about. He knew about my
mohawk. Was he still bitching about that?

"Dad, I don't know what you're talking about," I said, completely confused.

"So you don't know what I'm talking about? Well come over here to the
mirror, mister, and you'll see what I'm talking about." Through all of this
my mother was just staring. I think she was so shocked she was
speechless. Later she would have plenty to say!

When I looked in the mirror I almost fainted. Vaguely I remember seeing
someone at Mike's place with pink hair who looked just the way I do now. He
looked so crazy I started to laugh. But this was no laughing matter. What
the hell had happened? Then I remembered a conversation with Jimmy in the
bathroom at school earlier today when he said that the guys thought I would
look good with pink hair. Now I understood too why they were saying "Pinky"
so much. They were referring to me!

All of these thoughts swirled through my mind as I continued to stare in
the mirror at my hair and the thick white stuff starting to peel off my
face, which looked and smelled like...cum! I was ready to cry but I didn't
want my folks to see that I had been tricked and humiliated (again). So I
put on a brave, cum-covered face and told another enormous lie.

"Dad, this is no big deal. There is a logical explanation for this...(I
just hadn't figured it out yet!) Besides, there are lots of kids at school
who have gone much further than I have.  They have two-toned hair; they
have rings in their ears and noses; they even have studs in their tongues
and lips. People won't even look at me twice. It's the new generation dad,
and I'm a part of it." Boy was I getting good at this; I even surprised
myself with that speech!

"Maybe I am from another generation," dad said, "but I don't want my son
looking like a damn freak. That color; it almost makes you look...uh (he
was having a hard time getting it out)...it almost makes you look like a
homosexual."

"Dad, don't overdramatize," I said. "I just want to express myself."

"Well, this matter is far from over, Joe. We've got to have a very serious
talk about this.  And there's another matter I want to discuss with
you. You smell like you've been drinking and you act like you've been
taking drugs. Have you, Joe? Son, dyeing your hair pink is nothing compared
with getting hooked on drugs. Tell me, have you been experimenting with
something?"

I had just about reached the breaking point. I had to get up to my room and
take in everything that had happened. If they asked me any more questions
right now I would turn into a blubbering idiot. "Dad, I really appreciate
your concern and I promise we'll have a good talk...tomorrow. But right now
I'm really tired and want to go lie down.  Please."

Dad was very reluctant to let the matter drop, even for a day. But he could
see that I needed some rest and finally relented. "Okay, son, but I'm not
forgetting this. Tomorrow we talk it all out." Almost as an afterthought he
said, "And I want to know about that stuff on your face. Now wash it off!"

"Joe," my mom spoke out for the first time, "Bob Greenburg called twice
earlier saying that you were supposed to be at his house at 4:00 pm for
exercise. You never showed up.  What happened?"

"I know, mom, something else came up. I can't talk anymore now. I just got
to take a little nap."

"But don't you want any supper. You were supposed to eat at the
Greenburgs'. You must be starving."

"I'll have something later, mom. With that I bounded up the stairs, went
into my room and locked the door. I was almost out of my mind from
humiliation, anger, and guilt. I looked in the mirror again. I truly did
look like a freak. My ass and back began burning again and I decided to
strip to check it out. Besides, my cock felt funny, like it was packed
inside something (can you tell I was naive?) I thought I had already faced
the greatest shock of the day, but I had no idea what was in store for me
when I undressed.

I had a full length mirror on the back of my bathroom door. I looked for a
long time at my pink hair. I knew that Jimmy had said the guys wanted to
change my hair color in the bathroom this morning, but somehow I thought
that he was only joking. How could I face my classmates now? I almost
started to cry when I thought of the mockery that was in store for me on
Monday. I began taking my clothes off, starting with my shirt. I noticed
that my nipples were red and swollen. I turned around to look at my back,
which was stinging badly. I was shocked to see that it was criscrossed by
angry red welts. It looked like I had been whipped. I suspected that the
same was true of my ass which was similarly burning. I had a fleeting
memory of being tied up while heavy leather belts were swung by shadowy
figures against my back and ass...then it was gone.

I removed my pants and briefs and was in for the shock of my life. My
pubes! What happened to my pubes!? Those bullies couldn't stop with my
head, they had to violate the most private part of my body for their stupid
entertainment! In my confusion I hadn't even looked at my cock. When I
looked at it closely, I nearly jumped out of my skin, thinking at first
they had dyed it red (told you I was naive!) Then I realized they had
placed a condom over it, maybe with just a shred of kindness so that the
dye didn't stain it too.

I tore myself away from staring at my pubes to look at my poor stinging
butt and saw that it, too, was covered with welts, a few of which were
oozing blood. I was going into sensory overload. Before I worked myself up
any further, I had to clean up and soak in a nice warm tub. Hopefully, that
would soothe my back and butt and maybe even wash some of the dye out of my
pubes and hair. With my butt stinging more than ever, I decided that the
tub water probably should be cool: no sense adding fire to fire.

The water did take some of the sting out of my wounds. The water turned a
bit pink, but I wasn't sure if was from the welts on my butt or the dye
from my pubes. I soaped and soaped my pubes (and later my mohawk) and
although the lather became slightly pink the hair color did not change
significantly. Jimmy had done another "good" job! I was stuck, then--at
least for now. Maybe as I washed daily my normal color would begin to
return.  Than I thought about Mike, Jimmy and the other baboons, and how
they would probably come after me again if I messed around with their
latest handiwork.

I got some antiseptic cream from the medicine cabinet and spread it, as
best as I could, on my back and butt, which began to burn again as soon as
I got out of the tub. I was not about to tell dad, who was pissed off
enough, about what happened to my pubes and my ass. If I did, the shit
would really hit the fan. He would find out everything, which would just
bring me more humiliation. Besides, I had no desire to start a neighborhood
war, and so once again I meekly accepted what I didn't seem to be able to
stop. I knew that for quite awhile I would have to be very careful the way
I sat down (ouch!)

Now my fears focused on Monday. What would happen when I went back to
school?  Would everybody be laughing and calling me 'Pinky'? And there was
one other thing that bothered me. When I looked at what I knew was cum,
thickly covering my face-- and I knew damn well whose cum it was--my cock
got as hard as steel. I washed off the cum, which had become dry and
crusty. Then I reached into the waste basket and pulled out the red condom
the guys had put on my cock while they were dyeing my pubes, and placed it
carefully in my night table. Just the thought of it made my cock even
harder.

(To be continued)