I Won and Then Lost

[Toon]

They're tearing down my old high school. I refer to it as "my high school" even though I only went there two years. I switched schools because I was bullied so bad. Bullied for being girlish, acting weird and finally --for being short. This was in the mid 80's when bullying was just a part of growing up and nobody reported anything and teachers looked the other way. I was called a 'fag' so many times that last year and shoved into lockers so often, it's amazing  I didn't kill myself. I considered it often back then. 

At the center of it all was this guy I'll call 'Matt'. The fact that I'm changing his name to protect him is the ultimate in irony. His parents and my parents were old friends so I'd know him since preschool days. We lived in a farming area and were technically neighbors despite living nearly two mies apart. He was year older than me. My mom always hated him. He was trouble -- even as a little kid. He constantly picked on me and wanted to do tough boy stuff while I wanted to just have imaginary adventures  where were explorers or astronauts or something. He liked to initiate fights of any kind and I just went along with it. He'd want us to throw dirt clods at dirt clods at each other or those little white driveway rocks. He was sometimes nice but mostlty mean. But he was like a magnet and I was drawn to him even though he was a cruel, cruel boy. None of this changed over the years. When we were in junior high, he showed me a dirty magazine and told me how to beat off. The year adfter that he taught me how to smoke and then eventually he got me drunk for the first time. And all along, he still wanted to fight. He'd get me in headlocks or twist my arm behind my back. He was also a bragger. His dad more money than mine, his house was nicer than mine, he was taller and stronger and on and on. 

Then highshcool happened and, Dear God, what a nightmare. Everybody changed. They all turned into adults and I still looked like I was nine years old. Plus. I had to get glasses which  made me even more of an oddball. Even though it was a small school, Matt managed to disappear into his own crowd of tough guys who smoked and had learner's permits. I, of course,had flunked Driver's Ed. Driving terrified me -- which meant I was further isolated from kids my age. And like every rural town back then, all the kids were smoking weed which I'd never even seen or smelled in person. During all this, people started noticing my girlish tendencies and my high voice. Boom, I was a target. "Sissy", "Queer", "Queer Bait", "Homo", "Faggot" were among the things I was called. You'd think Matt would feel some tiny bit of kinship or shared history  and stick up for me once in a while, but no. Most of my abusers were his pals. The very last time we ever talked he told me not to sit near him during pep rallies or assemblies. High school was going great for him and didn't want my association with him to spoil it. And then I dropped out.

I did well at my new school and graduated near the top. I made a few great friends and then went off to college where I was exceptional in every class. I moved to a big city and landed a terrific job. My voice had deepened and my body filled out. Ny height maxed out at only 5'8", but that really doesn't count as "short" to the general poulation. Everything was going swell.  Adding to my genral happiness was the reports from hometown I'd get during weekly phone chats with the parents. Mike S. had died in a car crash, Luke B. had killed himself, Mack J. was in prison. Each tidbit of news like that fed my soul. I won! On top of that. the whole town had gone to shit thanks to the sudden appearance of hard drugs. My folks are pretty square so they didn't know which drugs exactly except that5 they could be used with a pipe or a needle. That could have been a few different subtances, but as long is it laid waste to that rotten place I was glad it had arrived. When I asked about Matt my mom was all too eager to repeat rumors she'd heard from her friends. He was unemployed and still living at home. He was also fat and grubby-looking and, according to her, would hang out in a trailer with fellow druggies shooting up the drugs they bought. Ha! He stumbled and went down while I was completely happy and successful. I won!

I hit my early 30's and the state had swarmed in and cleaned up that whole county. Lots of people were arrested and drug houses were demolished. The town tried to come back with new sidewalks and landscapes. And then they decided to tear down my old high school and build a new one. Oh how I wanted to witness the demolition in person! I went down that Summer to stay with my parents for a week of vacation. On a sunny, warm Saturday they were having a "walk through" of the school before they started auctioning off the light fixtures, toilets, bricks etc. My dad was excited about it because he loved auctions of any kinf and I was excited because I wanted to piss on the walls or vandalize a classroom or something like that. Yeah, it may seem emtionally unhealthy but that was the place that made me this way. So we went to town that morning.

I expected to feel happy to see the boarded-up building, but just thw shape of it caused my chest to tighten up. I didn't breathe the whole time it took Dad to find a parking space. My legs were shaking. I had to man up. I was still a fag, but I was a winning fag. I was also pretty much unrecognizable from the kid I used to be, but that didn't stop me from petting my sunglasses on. I didn't want them to see me coming. We saw a bunch of older guys in overalls and my dad needed to talk to each one of them. The walk through had been going on for half an hour by the time we got to the entrance. It hit me the second we got in. It smelled exactly the same and even though there was no electricity, I could tell the walls were exactly the same stupid pale blue they'd been for decades. I had to take my sunglasses off because there were no lights and more than halfthe windows were boarded up. It was dark but you could still navigate down the halls. Everybody had moved to the second floor already. I guess that's where most of the valuable stuff was (computers, copiers, library books). My dad was in the middle of a bunch of other farmers he knewheading up the stairs and they were busy with their chatter. I found myself alone in the first floor hallway, right in front of the princepal's office. I wanted to go in there and piss on the desk of the man who did nothing to protect me. I would have done just that, but stragglers kept wandering in.  I let myself into the gym instead.  This had been a place of torture as well. I walked across the basketball court and wished I had to take shit. A couple of turds right on top of the achool logo would hace been a perfect farewell. 

I went all the way back to where the locker rooms were. It still smelled like dirty balls even though no students had been through there for six or seven months. It's that moment that I realized the structure itself wasn't my tormenter. The stupid kids were, and they had long since gone. The hate and the need for revenge drained out of my body. I just felt tired and bored. Oh well...maybe I'd just pee and go wait outside for Dad. Where the urinals always that small? That's when I heard "Looking for something special?" from somewhere in the shadows behind me. Emerging into a sliver of light was Matt himself. I barely recognized him. He was wearing dirty denim overalls that accentuated his huge gut and had a full, bushy red beard like a bootlegger from "Coal Miner's Daughter" or something. He wa a few inches taller, but didn't exactly tower over me like he used to. He looked completely different but not like how I imagined a drug user to look. Weren't they all skeletal? He sure wasn't. Just dirty and generally unhealthy.

"I wouldn't have known who you were if I hadn't saw you walk in with your dad."

I could tell from how he talked that he was missing a few teeth. I didn't feel all that scared like you'd think I would. I really didn't feel anything that could be named accurately. He moved closer.

"Got nothin' to say to say to yer old buddy?"

No. I didn't. I wanted to leave.

He stepped even closer and I could smell his B.O. and a hint of alcohol. Then he was just a few inches away. God, his face looked like shit. The drugs hadn't made him thin but they had sure done their damage to his skin.

I was searching for something to say when the last thing I ever expected happened. He was hugging me. Huh?! No. I was wrong. He was trying to get me involved in a wrestling match. Seriously? I was bigger and stronger and could fight back now. I pushed him off of me only to have him tackle me again. I landed ghard on the concrete floor and the wind was compltely knocked out of me. I couldn't breathe as he got me in a bear hug again, then lifted me up and carried me back to the shower area. Another fall on my back and this time the back of my head was slammed as well. I saw the edges of my vision blur as the pain overwhelmed me. He stood back a little and leaned against the wall next to the shower nozzles. I collected myself as quick as I could and started to stand up, but I stumbled and Matt actually reached with one of his fat hands to help me up. I was busy trying to fill my lungs with air while he pulled a pint of rum or something from his back pocket and took a swig. He offered me a sip and I shook my head. No. I stood up straight and tall and steeled myself for this. What in the world did I have to be scared of? This fat mess?

"You got stronger. Been workin' out?" he said while thumping my chest with his bottle-free hand.

"No", I said in a voice that was way deeper than he would have ever imagined,"but that was the very last time you'll ever touch me. Got it?"

"No, but I got this," he drawled as he pulled a fat prick head out of the fly of his grimey overalls. I didn't move. I was frozen, and he must have taken my inaction as fascination because he pushed the whole organ out for me to see. A flood of weird memories back to me. His dick looked like a lightbulb. The shaft was short and skinny and the head was perfectly round and oversized. I knew that dick. I remembered right then that he hadn't told me how to beat off...he'd shown me. In flashes I saw us walking alongside a creek in his dad's pasture where he started wrestling me again. He'd sat on my chest and quickly stroked his little member up and down for a few seconds before squirting some stinky cream all over my neck and shirt collar. I also remember him guiding that thing into my underage mouth nearly a dozen times that year. I'd blocked it all out. I felt the hate and anger coming back in waves as he stroked his gross meat. I snatched the bottle out of his free hand and took a long swig of what I guessed to be whiskey, not rum. 

"Here's what you don't get, asshole. You lost and I won! I got out of this shit town and you didn't move an inch. Still living with ma and pa, are you? I have a career, a sweet car and my own home. What do YOU have?! Nothing! YOU LOST! I WON!" I was yelling with a force that was dug up from somewhere deep down inside me. 

"My, my, my." he said in a slightly slurred voice as he moved a little ways away before adding "I got something you don't."

"What?? A drug habit? DUIs? Needle marks?". I barked. I grew bold and grabbed his left arm to inspect for tracks. There weren't any. Huh? That's when he swung his fist around and caught me squarely in the cheek. I didn't hit the floor this time. Rage was keeping me upright like a steel structure, but it sure fucking hurt. 

"I never shot in my arm. Cops look for that. Me and my girls always used the veins in our feet. Look..." he stepped out of his size 13 sneakers, peeled off the filthy socks and showed me his gross feet. A couple of toes were swollen and scabby. Infection lived down there for sure. As I gazed at them, he made quick work of unstrapping his overalls and lifting off his shirt. Then he stepped out of the smelly denim and was completely nude. His big fat stomach just bobbed there unashamedly.  What the hell?? It would have been a good time to run, but he was still a magnet, keeping me close. It was with a bizarre sense of loyalty or intimacy that I knelt to the floor and wrapped my mouth around the fat head of his dick. I was just noticing how clean it seemed compared to the rest of him when he grabbed the back of my head and started a slow thrusting. It was all so familiar. He groaned and said a few things that I barely heard above the sound of my heartbeat.

"Strip", he commanded as he stood there with his shiny, wet dick bobbing beneath his gut. I did so without thinking too much of anything. He sized me up and handed me the bottle.

"I..."

"Don't talk. Just drain that fucker cuz you're gonna need it in a second."

I swallowed it all down and let the bottle fall from my numb hand. It didn't break, just bounced noisily into a corner. And then we had one last wrestling match for old time's sake. He had me pinned after he knew all my fight was gone. Then I was kneeling on the floor and he was on my back with his wet prick aimed exactly where I wanted him to aim it. It hurt like hell when he tried to get that fat head in my hole, but i didn't even have the strength to yell. The worst of the pain didn't last all that long anyway. After a minute, it was just me with my forehead down on the floor, feeling his blubber squooshing around on my spine and his little torpedo pivoting in and out of my guts. He was talking again. "You didn't win nothin' that I'm not taking from you now."

Then he roared as he blasted his nasty cum deep inside me. He collapsed on top of me and lied there for about half a minute. He got up. I could hear him shuffling around and thought he was getting dressed. That's when a stream of hot, smelly liquid hit my back. He was pissing on me. Of course. He'd won and deserved his victory, I guess. I lost everything.

 

 

 

 

[lynn1964]

You still love him and I hate him for what he did to you!