![]() I should note before I was turned and became a complete submissive faggot, I was the most respected and popular guy in school. The ultimate irony is that he would end up turning me gay. ![]() Once I'd finished beating on him (careful not to leave any telltale marks), he'd just look down his nose at me as if asking, "are you finished, because that was stupid and boring," and saunter away as if he'd put me in my place. What right did a beanpole nerd fag like him have to strut around acting superior? I literally wanted to beat him straight. He didn't seem to care what others thought and that only pissed me off even more. But mostly he brought the constant teasing, bullying and ridicule on himself. ![]() And his parents hadn't helped any either by naming him Cecil. I'd picked on him as far back as I could remember he was just a weird, skinny, uncoordinated loser who didn't remotely fit into a southern Texas town where football was the true gospel. I mean the guy dressed constantly in pink, his wrist was so bent he wouldn't be able to catch a basketball if his life depended on it and his voice was so high-pitched we all figured he had a cunt. This faggot deserved all the public humiliation he endured at our hands. Thanks to: Tex Beethoven, Robert, thor_p, and Wayne for editing. Summary: Straight football bully blackmailed and bent over.
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