A BOY'S FRIDAY AFTERNOON

BY ABUSEDASBOY11

As the school bell rang, I ran to the back of the room, picked up my backpack and ran out into the hall to meld with the mass of other children trying to exit the building like prisoners running from the jail house. It was Friday afternoon and the weekend spread out before me. And the weekend for an 11 yr old was a joyous time filled with fun and adventure. This one was going to start with a bang.

I finally made it out of the building and headed over to the bike rack and fingered in my lock combination. I pulled the chain free and placed it in my backpack and yanked my bike off the rack, spinning it around. I then hopped up on the seat and pushed off with my foot and began pedaling.

I had ridden my bike to school today because my mom was in a day-long conference at the college where she worked and couldn’t pick me up. So I got to ride home but since I had 5 hours before my mom would make it home, I was planning a small detour. My brother attended the college for free because my mom was an employee and I knew I would too in a few years. But because my brother chose to live on Campus, I often hung out with him and a few of his friends. My brother was cool like that. He didn’t mind his younger brother hanging around and his friends were real cool too. In fact, that was where I was headed. One my brother’s friends who lived in the ‘Ghetto’, the college owned off-campus housing area, had invited me over to play PS2 whenever I wanted. I knew he was at home because I had IM’d him from my computer literacy class. He was expecting me and his apartment was less then a mile from the school.

I pedaled away, still in my catholic school uniform. Blue shirt, blue pants and a striped tie, with brown hush puppy shoes. I was beginning my growth spurts, though still small at 4’ 5”, and my clothing was a little tight. In no time, I pulled up to his apartment complex and pulled my bike into the foyer and descended the stairs down to his apartment.

I knocked on his door and it opened almost immediately. His voice was soft and welcoming as he greeted me, “Hello Daniel.”

“Heya Peter,” I responded with my childhood voice, squeaky as it was. I really looked up to Peter. He was in college and an athlete in the baseball team. In him I could see everything I hoped to be. Looking back on it, I realize I had a case of idol worship.

“Come on in, bring in your bike. Do not leave it in the hall.”

I did as he suggested, pushing my bike into his apartment and leaned it against the nearest wall. I slipped my back pack off and let it fall carelessly to the ground, making my way forward to the kitchen, while Peter closed and locked the door behind me. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda pop. I had been here a few times before with my brother and knew my way around. Peter was just watching me as I grabbed my drink. He was 19 years old and had blond hair. He honestly looked far younger, maybe 15-16. I didn’t seem so odd that we would be hanging out.

I watched as Peter sat back down on the sofa and patted a spot next to him, an unused controller waiting. I quickly hopped over the back of the couch and unceremoniously plopped onto the seat, just avoiding crushing the controller. Peter just laughed, reaching over and ruffling my own dirty blond hair. I smiled up at him affectionately and grabbed my controller, “Your going down!” I threatened and turned my attention to the screen where the prep screen for Soulcaliber 3 was waiting and ready.

And go down he did, again and again. I used Kilik and beat him good. I didn’t realize he was probably letting me win, nor did I recognize the trap that was being set for me. After about 20 minutes of being beat, Peter tossed his controller down, “I give up,” he said chuckling, “You are just too good.”

I held my head up smugly, “Just like how I told you I was.”

He shook his head and said, “It’s not like you could really beat me in real life. You’re a little boy.”

This stung. I didn’t like being reminded how young or small I was and that comment did both. “Oh yeah, well I am stronger then you think!”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? You remember that movie we watched last week where the boy was tied up?”

I nodded, not seeing where he was going. It had been one of those TV movies about boy detectives that eventually got in over their heads. I couldn’t remember the name of it.

Peter continued, “Well I bet you couldn’t get out of being tied up like that.” He let the challenge hang in the air.

Being slightly wounded for his previous words and wanting to impress him, I quickly said, my voice high in my excitement, “I can to!”

“Well let us see about that. I’ll tie you up and you try to get free. If you get out, I’ll do anything you want, ok?”

I nodded readily, “What will you use to tie me up?”

Peter shrugged. “I can tie you up with what you wearing.”

“What I’m wearing?” I looked down at myself… and then back to him, “How?”

“Watch,” was all he said as he reached forward and grabbed my tie and began to unknot it. My mother always bought me the adult ties that you had to tie in a knot yourself. She said it was the mark of a gentleman.

Peter pulled the tie off completely and told me to turn around and put my hands behind my back. I could so get out of that tie I knew and so readily complied, letting him think he had me. As he began to loop the tie around my wrists, I was little surprised at how tight he was making it. I tried to move my wrists but his hand only came down on my shoulder and he said, a little sharply, “Do not try to get out yet, I have to finish tying you up.” I nodded ok.

When he was finished with my hands, he told me to scoot up on the couch and he began untying my shoes. First one shoe, then the next came off. He began to pull off my socks. They were the white knee-highs a lot of boys my age wear. Again one, then the other came off. He tickled my bare foot and I thrashed with a laugh for a moment. I watched closely as he rolled one of the socks and approached me.

“Open your mouth.”

I balked. I didn’t want a dirty sock in my mouth. But he did not relent. I tried to keep my mouth shut, suddenly struggling to get my hands free and fight against him doing this. Suddenly I wasn’t having too much fun. I tried to say stop but as I opened my mouth he shoved the sock in, and kept his hand covering my mouth so that I couldn’t spit it out. With his other hand, he brought my other sock up and began to tie it around my head and over my mouth, trapping the other sock.

Now I was really trying to get out but I couldn’t. He had really tied my hands well with that stupid tie. I wasn’t that scared yet but still, I wanted out. This was a type of situation I wasn’t supposed to be in with someone older then me.

After struggling and failing, I watched Peter as he pulled the laces out of my shoes. Once free, he took one lace and had me sit up on the couch and used it to further secure my hands behind my back. I tried to say he won, I tried to get him to stop but my voice was only a mumble from the gag. And he was not stopping.

He still had one lace left but he just tossed it over his shoulder and looked at my small bound form. I suddenly did feel real small. His voice wasn’t so nice and inviting now. It hid something darker as he said, “Well, guess you cannot get out, hmm?” He smiled a little evilly and continued, “Well since if you HAD gotten out, you would have been allowed to do anything to me, I think the same should apply since it appears I won this game.”

He didn’t hesitate after saying that and reached down and started unbuttoning my school shirt. I wasn’t wearing a t-shirt because none were clean this morning and in no time, my chest was bared, the shirt sprawling out to my sides. With my hands tied behind my back, it could not come completely off.

I was getting a little scared now and tried to use my feet to push Peter away, while trying to scream at him through my gag, but the louder I tried to scream, the deeper that sock fell into my mouth, cutting off my voice more and more. I felt tears come to my eyes as Peter just put his arm around my legs and leaned against them, trapping them.

“Aw, the baby gonna cry?” Peter mocked and that just made me really start to cry. Why was he mocking me. He had been nice.

“Well, I guess I should give you something to cry about.” My eyes widened as he said this and his hand shot down to my waist and began undoing my belt. I tried to buck and stuff but it didn’t do any good. He just finished unbuckling my belt and yanked it off and tossed it to the side.

His hands started to fumble at the button on my pants. I was really scared now. He was trying to take my pants off and I could not stop him. I felt him slowly pull down the zipper and felt the sudden rush of air on my underwear as there white cotton was exposed. He kept yanking at my pants, pulling them further down my legs and left them at my knees. With that he reached over and grabbed the belt from the floor and wrapped it around my knees and pants, making it hard for me to bend my legs.

When he was done that, he stood up and walked over to the TV, where he grabbed a small digital camera. He returned and starting taking pictures of me basically wearing only my little white underwear. And to add to the sudden terror, I started to get a stiffy. It was always happening at a bad time but there couldn’t have been a worse time, and Peter noticed it with a snicker.

“Looks like your little friend was to come out and play.” He said this in a song side kiddie voice. I just shook my head trying to push the sock out of my mouth but failing. I continued my futile mumbling begging him to stop but I couldn’t stop him as he reached down waved a hand over my penis through the underwear and then began to pull them down, first revealing only tip of my stiffy and then my marble sized balls. My arms were beginning to hurt too. My tears had not dried up and continued to flow.

Peter reached down and began to fondle my penis and balls, taking my pecker in between his fingers and massaging. It felt so good that I stopped struggling and just stared down at his hand as it played with my pee-shooter. It started to get even harder.

Peter was really into it and used his free hand to snap more pictures of my genitals as he molested me. I even stopped crying as the sensations he caused spread through my body. I had started experimenting with my friends but we only poked and prodded each others peckers till they were stiff. We didn’t know anymore then that. But I was suddenly learning.

I suddenly had to pee but my wide eyes and muffled screams to that effect were ignored by Peter as he sped up his rubbing. My back arched and I felt like I was going to explore, like a golfball was trying to make its way out of my penis. It didn’t hurt, but it seemed to turn all my nerves on end. My toes were curling as I suddenly released my pent up sexuality and had my 1st wet emission, splaying white stuff on Peter’s fingers. Some fell down to the base of my penis and onto my balls.

A growing pain in my gut made me attempt to draw my knees up but it didn’t work as Peter had put his weight on my legs again. He didn’t stop rubbing and my willy was suddenly extremely sensitive. It began to hurt but he didn’t stop. Now I really started to buck, lifting my back off the sofa and shaking my head. Yet he still continued. I began to scream into the gag again. It hurt and felt good, but it was so… sensitive. I started crying again. Peter, with a malicious grin, just kept wanking my penis not letting it lose its erection. This went on for a few minutes and I learned what I thought torture was. He was even squeezing my balls tightly but the pain was all one form…as he continued to pull my circumcised pecker. He was ruthless.

And then it happened again and my back arched and for a second time I felt stuff coming out of my penis, but only a little this time.

Thankfully Peter stopped this time. My head fell back in relief.

Peter smiled, “I bet that hurt a bit, eh? I can make it feel better though,” With that he leaned down and took my willy and balls in his mouth sucking off the watery cum that remained. And feel good it did. I closed my eyes and just got lost in it. It was such a surprising turnaround from a moment ago.

All too soon he stopped. And he began untying me by first pulling down the sock that captured the gag in my mouth. His fingers reached in and pulled the gag out of my mouth and I exhaled a long breath. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to expect.

He then put a hand behind my back and helped me sit up. He was being kind and gentle and he untied my hands. I grabbed my wrists and rubbed them. Deep red marks lined both wrists and I was worried my mom would see them.

“Don’t worry, those will disappear within an hour.”

I only looked at him as he said this and reached down to pull-up my underwear and then fumble with the belt around my legs. He just stood up and watched me. I finally got the buckle done and pulled my pants up and turned so my feet hit the ground and stood up, beginning to button up my shirt. I stole glances at Peter to make sure he didn’t try anything else.

After a few minutes, I was fully dressed again and Peter handed me my coke. “Here Drink, everything is fine. You still have a few hours till your mom gets home. We’ll order some Pizza and then I’ll drive you home, ok?”

I only nodded meekly but did want some Pizza. It was my favorite food. I sat back down on the couch with a forlorn look at my bike while Peter stood in front of the door and ordered my favorite pizza. He seemed to already know what I liked. I just sat there feeling ashamed. At least Peter hadn’t said anything about me not having any hair. Some of my friends did and I envied them. They said only little boys didn’t have hair.

Peter hung the phone up and walked over and sat down next to me. He reached out and picked up a controller and handed it to me. He started a match of SoulCaliber. I half-heartedly began playing but after he started beating me, I tried harder. Soon I was fully engaged in the game.

The Pizza came soon enough and we ate. After that Peter drove me home. It was dark now and we didn’t talk about what happened. As Peter’s car drove off, I wondered if I would go over his house next Friday. I guess I had all week to think about that.