Rick and the long game

The funny thing is if those ‘straight’ boys treated him a little bit  nicer, Rick would’ve happily become their pathetic little bitch-boy. 

The thing with Rick is that he’s so used to being looked down upon, being severely underestimated to the point where he almost expects it. With no muscle or anything why would anyone ever assume he’s a threat? And the fact that he’s a faggot only made his reputation of being, a week little bitch, stand out even more, and it seems every college teenager is always looking for something to prove. So when they hear about a weak faggot bitch roaming the college halls, of course there going to demonstrate their power: rough him up, call him all sorts of of humiliating and degrading names, maybe force him down on his knees, maybe rub and grind their ‘manly’ bulges against his face, etc. Doing everything they can to show Rick his place. 

Rick didn’t mind this. Honestly he didn’t. In fact, one might say he actively encouraged it-walking past the boys, taking not so subtle glances at the boys crotches and backsides, always giving them an innocent smile when they stormed over in rage. Rick liked it that way. He liked that no one cared about him. The neat thing about being ignored by everyone is that you see everyone, giving you an infinite amount of time to plot, plan, scheme their downfall. Rick might not have the muscles, but he’s certainly got the wits.

Ricks favourite place, which held his favourite people, at this school was none other than the lockers room. The stench of ripe teen musk, discarded gym clothes was breathtaking, it was like a faggot died and went to heaven. Rick was often the last to leave just so he could take in and inhale the musky aroma. 

To no ones surprise, especially not his, Rick was extremely unwelcomed when he joined the college’s football team, strolling, shirtless, into the boys changing rooms flashing each and every one of his disgusted teen teammates a cheeky grin as his eyes analysed their young, sweaty bodies. Obviously, he was met with the typical lewd comments. 

"Coach, why the fuck do we have a faggot playing for us?!"

"What’s he gonna do, hump the ball? See if he can fit it up his ass?"

"Look at me again queer-cunt and ire bitch slap you into next week!"

"I mean, look at those pathetic cock-sucking eyes."

However, if they thought a couple of rude, hurtful comments and threats were going to deter him, they certainly had another thing coming. Rick had already predicted and was extremely looking forward to the bullying that awaited him. 

Rick was not disappointed. Not even 5 minutes into his first shower, his team stormed in, shoving him against the corner, insulting him, slapping him, but even as they continued to polish their oversized egos Rick couldn’t help but look down and stare at their semi-erect meats, that dangled in between their legs, which only served to piss off the boys even more. It wasn’t long before they slammed Rick down to his knees and pried open his lips with their fat, thick cocks…

"Alright faggot, open up."

"This is all your good for ."

"Yeah…suck and slobber lIke the pathetic cock mutt you are."

"You’re never be a man."

It was meant to of been humiliating, it should of made him cry, but Rick loved every second. Sucking and slobbering over their dicks like there was no tomorrow. His tongue wrapping around every penetrating inch. Him constantly being bitch slapped and spat on no matter how good his slurps were. Their fat, tasty cocks exploding like geysers as they grabbed strands of his hair, and roared like wild animals as they came down his throat. And it didn’t end, not until every boy on the team had got his go of the faggots mouth. Leaving Rick, collapsed on the floor covered in spit, and cum, but despite all that abuse he couldn’t stop smiling. 

The bullying didn’t stop there. It only escalated. Rick was now also the team's urinal, getting on his knees whenever a boy needed a leak, eagerly swallowing their warm streams of piss. It had gotten to the stage where Rick would be already on his knees, in the shower, obediently waiting for the boys to use him as a cum dump, or a human urinal, or simply even a stress reliever. Rick would happily do all these things with a smile. Happily keep up the illusion that he was a worthless, powerless queer. For it was all about to change. 

The Coach of the team was probably just as bad-though he doesn’t necessarily instigate the bullying, he definitely doesn’t stop it. Once, Rick heard the man say 'man up pussy boy' as his face was shoved in a teammates crotch. One day soon, Rick will bring down the coach's rein of power, but that’s for another time. Now it was time for Rick to take control over his teammates, one by one. 

Smith. Warren smith. The first boy that fell into Rick's clutches. They say you never forget your first, and in some twisted way Warren will always be his favourite because of that. Now I’d love to tell that capturing and manipulating Warren was the hardest thing Rick ever had to do, that it was a long fought battle of gigantic prepositions, but I can’t, I’d be doing too much a disservice to the straight boy’s nativity. Remember how I mentioned people vastly underestimate Rick? Well Warren done that for the last time.

It was simply one day after practice, Warren and Rick were the last to leave. Everyone had already made good use of Rick's faggot throat, so Warren, naturally, had already erased the queer from his mind, that was until he heard "nice ass you got, boy. So tight. So fuckable. You sure you ain’t queer?" But before he could turn around with clenched fists, fuelled with contempt, the sedative syringe was already plunged into his neck, and he was on the floor, totally losing his fight to stay conscious. And when he eventually opened his groggy eyes, realising in shock and disbelief that his hands were cuffed to the shower wall, that’s when the fun began. Predictably, he started mouthing off once he noticed Ricks fully naked body-his hairless balls-his denuded legs-his stiffening boner, but Warren soon got silent when he saw that Rick was armed with a sinister looking pocket knife. "You best calm down, my sexy little stud. Do you know how easy it would be for me to carve you up like a Christmas turkey? They’d never suspect the dumb, incapable queer to be capable of murder. Hell, our teammates would probably make me suck the cops off to encourage them to find your killer. The way you've treated me, why shouldn’t I kill you, huh??" Of course, Warren was a crying, shambling mess begging, pleading for his miserable life telling Rick that of course he can suck his cock. But much to the straight boy’s surprise, Rick didn’t use the knife to kill him, no, instead he tossed it to the side, "relax, boy, I never snuff out my toys." Rick leapt at his captive, passionately kissing him on the lips, licking down his neck, sniffing his sweaty mop of hair, lapped over his feet, sucking each individual toe, even cradling his balls in his mouth, before suddenly standing up and picking something up from a nearby bench. "Hehe…wanna know something funny? If you’d only let me, I would’ve loved you, worshipped your magnificent body like a god…but I guess things never turn out the way we hope which is why we sometimes we have to improvise." Rick revealed what he picked up: a small, metal, curved, metal object which he immediately secured on Warren's dick. Once done, he nibbled and whispered in Warren's ear, "that’s a chastity cage…it means your mine…your my bitch…if you ever wanna know what a orgasm feels like, ever again, then accept that I own you, straight boy…" for the rest of the night until Warren was released Rick spent the rest of the night going back and forth between instructing the boy on how to suck and slobber on his thick dick meat, and worshiping every part of the boys body, while his cock strained and ached inside its new restrictive prison. 

One down and the rest was child’s play. Rick rightfully felt infinitely more confident to acquire his army of sluts. Now he didn’t even have to wait for an unsuspecting target to be alone, no, now he had bitch boy Warren to nab and tag his next victim. Soon one bitch became two. Two became four. And you get the picture.

After he had acquired Warren, Rick started wearing a chain around his neck. In that time it only has a single small key. No one acknowledged it, and all thought it was strange and a little creepy. No one understood the significance of the key necklace until it was too late, until they were his. Because as the number of cock cages, that Rick needed to tame and control his army, grew, so did the keys, that he wore proudly around his neck. 

Now, whenever coach left the changing rooms to hide in his office, normally muttering some homophobic comment under his breath, Rick could now be his queer self with bitches; sneaking up behind them to hug them tightly, smell their hair, or kiss and lick their necks from behind: flash them a cheeky grin along with a coy half smile, that never existed before: make them sink to their knees, open their mouths as wide as they can go whenever he wants/needs to cum or piss; whisper humiliating and degrading comments in their ears "does your girlfriend ever treat you as good as this, huh, bitch boy?" Or "you like the feel of my cock pressing against your hole, want me to take you, right here, right now, don’t ya, you needy little bitch??" But the best bit was listening to his boy bitches beg and plead for the chance of sweet, merciful release. Drooping to their knees, nuzzling his crotch, and begging like they’ve never begged before. 

Now Rick wasn’t necessarily an evil bastard, he could show mercy, at least when he wants to. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, he did allow his bitches the chance to earn their temporary freedom. Of course they would be expected to perform any number of humiliating activities, make out with each other, allow Rick to smack their butt cheeks until their red, lube up each other’s boypussies with their tongues and beg for Rick to fill them up. Nothings to degrading. Nothings to humiliating. 

Being in the changing rooms, it was near impossible to hide their chastity cages from coach, or perhaps another boy that Rick was yet to own. They’d always make the same excuse: that it was just some kinky thing their girlfriends insisted they’d try, but Rick would always wonder: if that excuse was even remotely believable.

Despite being in control, Rick refused to let the bullying die down. As I said before: the freak fucking loved it.. sometimes a boy's would be unlocked from chastity, just so he could bully Rick at school, kick him to his knees, spit in his face, and force feed him their dicks, for their weekly release. It was hard to identify a specific reason why Rick chose to do this: maybe it was to keep the appearance of the 'men' bullying the fag: maybe Rick took sympathy over his bitches: but maybe, and probably most probable , it was because he loved seeing the anger, the resentment, and the dreaded fear in the boy’s eye-knowing they have a task that was near impossible to succeed-if they abuse him to much, they’ll be punished, but if they don’t abuse him enough, they’ll also be punished. Trying to find that treacherous middle ground is like trying to find a needle in a haystack, filled with cock denial, and horny achy frustration. 

Oh, your probably thinking, 'why don’t the boys just team up on Rick, beat the shit out of him, grab their key and reclaim their freedom?' Well they certainly could do that, but that’d be very ill advised. Rick does love to record his bitches sucking and slobbering over his bone, memories he call them, and Rick is more than willing to share his memories if a bitch forgets it’s place. Their required to meet at Rick's apartment for daily inspection, and if their even a minute late they can kiss their reputation goodbye. There’s simply no escape. 

Well, I think that about does it for Rick's tale, at least for now. You know what teenagers are like: never satisfied with what they have, always wanting more. We’ll see. But for now, ire let you go. But always remember: never underestimate a faggot, or you might just end up in his cross hairs…