Rivals

By Aldric

Copyright 2015 by Aldric [email protected], all rights reserved
* * * * *

This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
 
Comments may be made to [email protected]
 
This story depicts minors in unusual conditions that may include unprotected, unsafe sex or extreme humiliation. Obviously, this does not describe real life and should not be taken as such. In the real world, behaviors as described in the story are not acceptable, tolerated, or legal. The reader should never confuse the difference between fiction and real life. This story is fictional.

* * * * *
 



 
Rivals
 
“Are you positive you’re willing to go through with this?” Jacob asked his brother Zeke.
 
“Positive.  It’ll be embarrassing, but worth it.  I’ll get back at West and that dork won’t suspect a thing until it’s too late.”
 
“Look man, we’re going to do our best to scare the shit out of you, and we’re going to be rough when we catch you,” one of Jacob’s teammates said.  “I want you to know now that we don’t mean it and we’ve got a lot of respect for you just for going along with this plan.  Jacob is very proud of you and for good reason.”  He and his three partners, all starters on the East Bay City football team patted Zeke on the back.
 
“Just be ready to get us out of here the minute I get him over the line,” Zeke said.  “And don’t forget to drop the bag when I kick you.”
 
“Just please make sure it’s Greg you kick and not one of us.”  Greg was a 225 pound offensive lineman and he towered over Zeke, as did the other two members of the team. 
 
“I’m the only one wearing a cup,” Greg said, “So don’t get it wrong.  And I’ll fall over backward and toss the bag behind me.  Just run over me, get the bag, and go.”
 
“And give the best acting performance of your life,” Jacob said.  “Otherwise, if he catches on, your plan will backfire in the worst way and there won’t be anything we can do about it.”
 
“I got it!” Zeke said.  “Get out of here before he sees us together.  I know how to do this.”
 
The rivalry between East and West Bay city had been fierce since the new high school was built in West Bay City six years ago.  It had started out as fun but rapidly grew out of control.  The school administration had been thinking about ways to try and control it for the last two years.
 
Last year at the game, the stadium, which was shared by both teams, was filled with posters of a boy in his underwear dancing while brushing his teeth.  The unfortunate East-side boy, who was only twelve years old at the time, was at the game when the posters were reviled and was totally humiliated. 
 
The coaches from both teams didn’t wait for the school board to act, they agreed to get control of the situation immediately.  Nobody knew if the prank had affected the outcome of the game, but several players from the East side team had almost been ejected for poor sportsmanship.  They imposed a rule that starting a week before the annual game any player crossing the dividing line between the two sides of town would be banned from the game.
 
The word leaked out that the pictures had been taken by the star defensive player on the West team, Quentin Becker.  The east side team wanted revenge.  But it was the boy who had come up with the plan they needed.  There was no rule preventing him from crossing over.  And as long as no pictures of his intended victim appeared there might be rumors but nothing the coaches could do to any players.
 
Now thirteen, Zeke was ready.  Seeing himself in briefs on posters everywhere in the stadium had been very embarrassing and he spent the next year planning his revenge.  His target was the thirteen year old brother of the star defensive player on the west team.
 
His plan was filled with risk, as he had no intention of getting even.  He was going for the total defeat and humiliation of Clayton Becker.  He had developed the tools he needed with only minor help for his older brother.  And he had spent endless hours practicing each phase.
 
Close to the line, he stayed out of sight while watching.  He had observed Clayton Becker for months and knew he would be passing by on his side of the line while heading home.  He only had a short wait until he saw Clayton coming and gave the signal to the high school boys hiding behind him.  Then he ran.
 
Clay saw the boy running and watched as he tripped.  The boy tried to get up but it was too late.  The much bigger football players were on him.  They grabbed him and started cutting his shirt off.  Clay stood and watched.  He couldn’t hear much except for the boy’s screams for help but it something to do with school spirt.
 
Once they had him shirtless, they began cutting off his pants, right there on the street.  It only took seconds and then his pants, like his shirt, was in ribbons.  The biggest of the three boys moved in front of the boy and reached for his underwear.  It was at that moment that Clay recognized the boy—he was the boy in the posters.  Last summer Clay had played soccer against him, and like the other kids on Clay’s team, laughed at him and called him ‘undieboy.’
 
One of the other big boys let go to grab something and the boy managed to send a perfect soccer kick right to the nuts of the biggest football player, who was actually lifted into the air a few inches by the kick.  The boy managed to get free of the last bully and ran, grabbing a bag off the ground as he did.  He didn’t hesitate but ran right across the line and right towards Clay.
 
Two of the football players chased him, while the biggest one moaned while in the fetal position.  They ran right up to the dividing line and one of them had to pull the other back to keep him from crossing.
 
“You have to come back sometime Zeke, and we’ll be waiting for you!” one of them yelled.
 
Clay wasn’t sure why, but he stepped out into the open and said, “Come on, I live just down here.  You’ll be safe there.”
 
“Uh, I’m kind of uh, feeling a draft,” Zeke said.  “Any chance I could borrow your shirt?”
 
Clay handed his shirt over and said.  “You’re Zeke Asher.  I remember you from the posters.  And for kicking your ass in soccer.”
 
“And you’re Clayton Becker,” Zeke said as he buttoned up the shirt.  “And thanks for the shirt.  And you didn’t kick my ass, just the rest of my team.”  He saw the questioning look on Clay’s face and added, “Your name was on your soccer jersey.”
 
“I go by Clay.  This is my house,” Clay said.  “Come on in and we’ll see if I have any pants that fit you.”
 
“If you don’t mind, your brother is the one who honored me in posters last year.  I don’t care for a repeat this year.  Anywhere we can hang out outside until the bonfires start up?  Then I can sneak back home.”
 
“Sure,” Clay said.  “I’ve got an old fort out back.  We can go there.  How come kids from your side were after you?”
 
“Because I wouldn’t show school spirt.  They wanted me to color my hair red and get a Mohawk and paint my face and chest for the rally and the game.  And after last year I just didn’t want anything to do with it.”
 
Clay made small talk, mostly about soccer and Zeke was getting bored.  He thought the kid would never ask about the bag.  But his practice had showed that it was important for the kid to bring up the bag, not him.  So he waited impatiently.
 
“What’s in the bag?” Clay asked.
 
Finally, Zeke said to himself.  “The bag?” He looked to where Clay was looking and said, “Oh, yeah, they were caring it.  I don’t know what’s in it.  Let’s find out.”
 
He knew perfectly well what was in the bag.  He had built it.  He had tested it.  And he had practiced putting it on other kids until he could do it in ten seconds blindfolded, just in case he had to do it in the dark.  He dumped it out.  There were three pieces of metal, each about a foot long.  One piece had eight large holes drilled through it with a smaller hole at each end.   The second piece had a smaller hole near each end that appeared to line up with the small holes in the first piece.  The last piece had two smaller, threaded holes near each end.  There were two screws and a screwdriver.
 
There was also five inch long plastic penis with an elastic band attached to it.  As Zeke expected, Clay picked up the plastic penis first.
 
“Yuck!  I think this was going to go in your ass,” he said, dropping it.  Then he picked up the metal bars.
 
“But what the hell are these for?” he asked.
 
“I don’t know, let’s see them.”  Zeke pretended to examine them but was keeping an eye on Clay.  When Clay didn’t offer any suggestions, he slipped the fingers of one hand into the top four larger holes up to the second knuckle.  “I don’t have a clue,” he said, sliding his fingers out and handing them back to Clay.
 
“I think I know,” Clay said.  “Put your fingers in again.”  Zeke did as he was told.  “Now put the fingers of your other hand in the other holes.”  Again, Zeke did it.  His fingers pointed out each side and he bent his fingers so that they were vertical until they went through the holes.  “Now watch.”  He picked up one of the other pieces and held it over the back of Zeke’s fingers on one side and then the third piece on the other.  The screws went through the first two pieces and threaded into the third.  He grabbed the screwdriver and tightened them.  “Now you’re trapped,” he said.  Then they were going to cut and dye your hair.  And my sister uses this, it removes hair.  So I guess rather than shave the sides they were just going to chemically remove them.”
 
Zeke was happy.  Clay had it almost right.  And now it was time to see if his plan was going to work.
 
“I think you did it wrong,” he said.  “Take the screws out and let me show you how I think they planned it.”
 
Clay removed the screws, releasing Zeke’s hands.  He didn’t notice when Zeke reached into his shoes and removed two special screws.
 
“Put your hand behind your back and then through the holes,” he said.  Trusting him, Clay did as asked.  Zeke quickly attached the three bars, only instead of the regular screws he used one-way tamper resistant screws that could only be screwed in, the cuts in the head were rounded to prevent using a screw driver to remove them.  And Zeke had counter sunk the heads into the bar so that vice grips wouldn’t help either.
 
“That’s how these work,” he said as he tightened the screws as tight as he could get them.  “And this doesn’t go in your ass, although it’s tempting.  It goes in your mouth to keep you quiet.”  He pinched Clay’s nose as Clay started demanding he remove the finger pillories.  The plastic dick when in and almost reached the back of Clay’s throat while he pulled the strap around Clay’s head to keep him from spitting it out.
 
Zeke had heard of finger pillories that were used years ago in England.  Once he looked it up he knew he could do better.  And Clay was going to be wearing them a long time.  The bars were made of hardened stainless steel, which would make them hard to cut with a hacksaw.  And that was the only way to get them off.  When he tested them he had a second set that he cut a little notch so that the screw could be cut, but there was no notch on this pair.
 
He picked Clay up and removed his shorts.  Clay tried to kick him, but Zeke had practiced this on several kids about Clay’s size and he told them to resist as much as possible.  By now he knew where to stand to avoid being kicked.
 
“I wish you weren’t so damn small,” Zeke said as he pulled the shorts on.  They were very tight in the crotch and he almost couldn’t get them snapped, but they would do until he could get Clay across the line.  His last action in the fort was to pull down and off Clay’s boxers, and then the only thing he hadn’t seen in his practice happened—Clay got an erection.
 
“Shit, you’re not more than 4 inches long hard,” he said.  “But at least I’m glad to see that you’re enjoying this.  But we’ve got a lot more planned for you, so let’s go.”
 
Nobody had seen Clay’s dick in the last six years except his doctor.  Being stripped by a boy he thought he was saving was extremely humiliating.  He had no idea why he got hard, it just happened.  And Clay knew it was about to get worse.  He tried to yell or scream, but Zeke pushed the penis in a little further until he gagged a little.  Then Zeke reached down and flicked his finger on the back of Clay’s balls, getting the exact reaction he wanted.
 
“Stay quiet and walk where I lead your or I’ll drag you by your balls,” he said as he headed out.  It was just getting dark, so he was already behind schedule.  He hurried them along and was lucky nobody was out that he had to hide from.
 
As soon as he crossed the line Greg ran over and picked Clay up and carried him.  “You’re late,” he said as he ran towards the car.  “We’re going to be late to the bonfire.  And how come he’s naked?  I thought…”
 
“He’s not going anywhere, just drop us off nearby and I’ll finish him and bring him in,” Zeke said.  “It took forever for him to ask about the bag.  Everyone saw me in my underwear because of his brother, now I’m going to show him how I deal with that.”  His brother’s friends didn’t understand, this wasn’t about being rivals, this was personal.
 
Clay was scared.  He had no idea what Zeke had planned, but he knew he was going to be naked for it.  He wanted to tell him he was sorry and that he had nothing to do what his brother had done, but all he could do was mumble.  And Zeke wasn’t listening anyway.
 
“First your hair,” he said.  He began cutting along both sides and using a stiffener to make the center stand up straight.  It only took a few minutes to give Clay the Bay City East Warrior’s Mohawk haircut.  Then he moved quickly on to the dye he had.  Unlike the dye all the supporters used for tonight’s game, this was a permanent hair color product that would turn Clay’s hair bright red, one of the Warriors colors.
 
While it was setting, he painted Clay’s chest brown, the other warrior color.  He had cutout of the warrior emblem that he used on each cheek (facial, but that gave him a great idea and soon Clay’s butt cheeks were also colored.)  And his final job was the hair remover his mother used.
 
Once everything was dry, he used a hose to rinse, and Clay looked the way every proud warrior would look like that night (except for being naked and hands bound behind his back).  Years ago the emblem had been of a naked warrior, but times had changed and the new one was a face only.  But Clay was naked, painted, and cut.  It was too bad his tears had caused one of the emblems to run, but it was too late to fix that now.  Without his pubic hair he looked no more than ten or eleven years old.  And he still had the boner.
 
“Our pep rally is right over that hill,” he said pointing.  There was already a visible glow meaning the bonfire had been lit.  “After you make an appearance there, somebody will lead you to your side’s pep rally, and hopefully the wildcats will take great offence at a warrior coming upon them in the dark.  Go there on your own and I won’t do anything further to you.”
 
He stepped back and pointed a camera at Clay.  The flash blinded him, and Zeke took two more pictures.
 
“I’ve waited all year for this, don’t disappoint me.  Make sure your brother understands that he embarrassed the wrong boy last year.”
 
Clay didn’t even know for sure where he was and he didn’t have much of a choice.  There was no way he could get free by himself.  He headed for the glow behind the crest of the hill.
 
Nearly every kid from the East side between the ages of 10 and 20 was there and a shout went out as soon as they saw Clay approaching.  Laughter grew immediately when they realized it wasn’t one of their side walking naked towards them.  More flashes shinned into Clay’s eyes as people with cell phones started taking pictures.
 
When he got close a boy his age pulled on the plastic penis enough to see what it was, then he let it snap back when he saw.  “If you wanted to suck on something all you had to do was ask,” the boy said.  He then proceeded to tell everyone else what was in Clay’s mouth.
 
Clay’s dick was rock hard, twitching on its own and swaying as he walked.  Clay hadn’t even know he’d lost his pubes until kids started laughing and yelling about his lack of hair.  All Clay could do was move slowly through the crowd, tears running down his face.
 
Once he got near the fire, many of the boys Clay had played soccer against were there.  They remembered the names Clay and his teammates had called Zeke and started calling him nudie until somebody yelled ‘No Pubes” and that caught on.  Clay knew he’d be hearing that all next summer.
 
Finally, the football team took control and told the crowd that he had to return to his side of the line.  There were many volunteers to lead him over to the next rally, which was close enough to see and hear.
 
Quint Becher, Clay’s brother, had been wondering where Clay was.  Even though Clay didn’t want to wear the Blue and White school colors, he thought the least his brother could do was show up.  After all, even though he didn’t play football, he did play for the middle school’s soccer team. 
 
The West side kids had seen Clay’s approach and yelled out that a warrior was invading their camp but then he got close enough for them to see that he was naked.  Quint looked when he heard the laughter immediately saw that it was his brother.
 
“Shut up everyone, that’s Clay!  That’s my brother!  And I’m going to kill the son of a bitch who did this to him.”  Quint began to run towards the line and it took several players to hold him back.  Finally they got through to him that they needed him to play if they were to have a chance at winning.  And if he crossed the line, he’d be banned from the game.
 
Clay walked to him and tried to hush the crowd.  But even though it was one of their own, a naked seventh grader in public was something to laugh at and many of the middle school kids couldn’t prevent laughing, even when the football players turned and looked at them.  Even some of the high school kids were laughing, and it grew even louder when Quint pulled the plastic penis out of his brother’s mouth.
 
“Get a screwdriver,” a kid yelled when he tried to free Clay’s hands.  Several people ran to cars and they ended up bring back several tool boxes.  “It won’t turn,” Quint said.  A flashlight came on and they could see why.  “They used those special bolts that can’t be unscrewed.”
 
In the end it took several of them and several hacksaws to cut through the toughened metal and free Clay’s arms.  A letterman jacket was then wrapped around him, ending his naked display.
 
Instead of answering questions, Clay just said, “I just want to go home Quint.”
 
The pep rally was ruined.  Nobody felt like partying, and when Quint left to take his brother home the fire was put out and people started leaving.  Quint’s girlfriend tried to rinse the color out of Clay’s hair, but realized it wasn’t going to rinse out.  “The only thing to do is cut it off and wait for it to grow back.”
 
On the field the next day, Quint was called for two personal fouls before being ejected from the game.  Without him, the East’s quarterback, Jacob Asher was able to complete several long passes and East ended up winning.  Quint knew he’d blown it.  There were a lot of college scouts there and all they saw was his poor sportsmanship and his ejection.  He had very few games left to try and convince a good college to give him a scholarship.
 
And Clay started planning his revenge.  He didn’t intend to wait a full year.  He heard that most of the girls in his school had pictures of him naked.  He was teased by some boys, supported by others.  And one girl, who admitted she had a picture of him, asked him if he’d go out with her.  He said yes and had a good time.  But for him, the rivals were no longer the two football teams.  Zeke had made it personal.  This was now between him and Zeke Ashen.
 


The End
 
P.S.:  If anyone wants to write a continuation of this story go ahead and do it.  I don’t have a sequel planned at this time.


 
 


 

   
   
(The End)