The Long Way Home

"Hey, hey! Calm down, man! No reason to be like that!" one of them said, avoiding my blind kicks.

"Dude, look, Ron was right: he's hard!"

"Jesus, what the fuck, man? Do you like that, you fucking pervert?"

"Oh my God... look at the size of that thing!"

My face was burning in shame from their comments. I hated to hear them talking like that about me and the size of my wiener, as if I wasn't even there. Their voices sounded distant through the wall, as if I was far away, and it seemed like there were three or four of them. If my drink hadn't been spiked my dick should've surely shrank away into nothingness... outside, they continued to argue.

"Of course mine is double the size, that's easy money!"

"I mean, of course his is mega tiny, but still..."

"And I'm telling you... hey, Ron, you got a ruler on your backpack?"

My silent protests began earnestly once more, kicking right and left. No fucking way was some young kid gonna touch my dick, no way in hell. My left foot connected with someone's leg.

"Bastard...! Grab him, Aron!"

Between the two of them they grabbed my legs, but by then I had stopped putting up a fight. Aron? Did he say Aron? Was it really him? My brother must have been about the same age as these punks, but still... I had a hard time believing he was out there, tormenting me although unknowingly.

Aron was as obsessed with sports as I had been at his age. Unlike me, however, his passion was soccer, meaning he had strong legs and a leaner body. Other than that he's the splitting image of me. We fought over every other thing as any brother would do, but I knew he looked up to me. He certainly would never do anything like this if he knew I was on the other side.

An unknown hand firmly grasped my dick, startling me. The cold hand easily covered my entire junk, something the rest of the fuckers were quick to point out, and then set something beside it (which I assumed was the ruler). I dropped down my head, humiliated. What if it was Aron himself grabbing me by my privates?

"3 inches!" an unknown voice announced. That motherfucker... it's three and a half, not three! I wanted to yell at them but restrained myself, thinking Aron would recognize me.

"What did I tell you? Not even half of mine..."

"Big deal, you're comparing yourself to a baby," the guy with the bored voice said. My pride was hurt and bleeding because of these kids. They started discussing among themselves once more, bitching about who was bigger until they decided to settle it once and for all.

I heard the sounds of unzipping pants and mocking comments among them, followed by an awkward silence and the unmistakable sounds of beating meat. It's obvious they wanted to be at their very best when they faced off between them.

In the end, the one with the biggest dick ended up being none other than my own brother. As if I hadn't been shamed and embarrassed enough, this truly took the cake. How was it possible that someone who shared my own blood had been blessed in such a way while I had been left out to dry? Had he perhaps robbed me of my missing inches, giving him an unusually long dick even at a younger age? I felt anger and resentment towards him, as if somehow it had been his fault that my own member had betrayed me and kept me from being the man I should have been.

The other guys reluctantly accepted Aron's victory, and so decided to follow whatever plan he had stored for me. He lowered his voice and told them something that went unheard by me, and one of them started rummaging in his backpack under his instructions. He must've taken something out, because the next thing I knew I felt something wet and cold on my ass, not unlike a dog's snout.

I felt uneasy and focused on identifying whatever that thing was. It started moving around, forming a circle with my butthole as its center, and then another, smaller one, and another, and another... it finally hit me that they were using a marker to draw circles on my ass for who knows what reason. I didn't suspect a thing but feared it.

A few minutes later the 'artist' finished his artwork. He, along with the rest of his friends, left me behind to my surprise, chuckling on the way. Were they finally going to leave me alone? I wasn't going to complain about it, but I would be lying if I said I expected it. Something was off...

CRACK!

The strike in my rear took me by surprise; I wasn't able to contain my howl of pain, surprised as I was. Something had hit me in my ass really hard, and since I was unable to move I had received the blow in full power.

A minute passed, and I felt the pain once more. Another one followed, and another and another... every other minute I was hit by an unknown force with varying intensity and not every one of those strikes had been on the ass. Some of them had been on my legs, and some missed me entirely and hit the wall instead, reverberating in the house.

I started to guess the nature of the game these sadistic freshmen were playing, and my brother's sport of choice was key to that: they had drawn a bulls-eye on my butt and used it as target practice for their power shots.

Ever since I received the first hit I had tried escaping once more, trying unsuccessfully to cover myself with my feet. Those fuckers gave me no respite and threw shot after shot with great precision, sometimes hitting me on my left cheek, sometimes on the right one, sometimes right in the middle. The pain was starting to become unbearable and I wished I could at least use my hands to rub myself.

I don't know how long I was there on the receiving end of their shots, but it felt like an hour when they finally stopped. My ass felt like it was on fire, both cheeks were tender and sore, like they had been when I was a kid on my father's lap.

My four tormentors approached me. I winced when one of them touched me on my ass.

"Holy shit that's raw. Look at that!" one of them said, more in awe than in concern.

They buzzed around, excited. I had the impression they had only stopped because they were tired of the game and not out of any sense of remorse. Me, I was tired, sweaty, humiliated, sore and all-around miserable. I prayed for the moment they left me alone, and from what I heard I was about to get my wish.

"... it's almost 12. I gotta run, I still have to shower before going to the restaurant."

"Yeah, me too."

"Mm, no use staying here on our own, I guess. Are we going to leave him like that?"

"Yeah, he'll get out on his own. Although... maybe one last thing for him to remember us by," Aron laughed to himself. His laugh sent shivers down my spine, it sounded so unlike him. I heard him rummaging in the ground until he found something, which he pulled with a grunt. "I think he'll make one hell of a flower vase, don't you think?"

He grabbed me by my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. I didn't think it was physically possible for me to be more mortified but this was definitely doing it. No one had ever seen such a private area and now my kid brother was doing it? Out of this world.

"Fucking gross, dude!" one of them complained. Aron ignored him and proceeded to insert the steam of the plant into my hole. It felt cool as the thin steam easily made its way inside me, to my discomfort.

Everyone on the outside laughed hysterically. The sight of a red ass stuck on a wall with flowers coming out of it must've been comical to anyone, not to mention with a stubborn hard-on of a pathetic penis. I closed my eyes tightly, wishing my nightmare were over. This group really knew how to denigrate me more and more, especially when I thought it impossible.

They finally left me on my own when they tired themselves of mocking me, but not before each one of them gave me a hard swat as they walked by. Still, I felt elated that my torment seemed to finally be at its end. How wrong I was.

I waited a couple of minutes to ensure I was on my own, and afterwards focused on getting my arms and shoulders unstuck, trying to backtrack as much as possible. The stupid flower clung stubbornly to my backside until it finally fell on its own. It would only be a matter of time before I was out...

A noise somewhere in the area made me freeze. Someone was around.

There was no mistaking it, the footsteps were approaching me. Had they come back or... was it someone else? Once again I felt the nerve-wrecking feeling of vulnerability that I had before. I tried squeezing into the opening once more but I knew it was too late, the person was already behind me.

The new visitor stood there, in silence. They made no comment, nothing about finding a naked man stuck on a wall, no nothing. They just stood there, silently, as if judging me. It drove me mad.

Suddenly I felt one of his (her?) hands touching my still sore ass. Something about it felt off, and it chilled my blood to think of this person's intentions.

The stranger caressed them. It wasn't a simple touch; it was very deliberate, somehow sexual. I couldn't believe this was happening to me, my ass was being groped as I had done with so many women in the past. I thought I was going to be sick. While I had moved violently before it was nothing compared to the way I trashed about now, trying to escape that bad touch. This pervert had me in exactly the way he or she wanted.

My tormentor wasted no time in getting to where they wanted. With a single hand they grabbed an asscheek and for the second time in the day exposed my asshole. He (and I was suddenly sure he was a 'he') spat in their hand and clumsily rubbed it against my hole, using a fat finger to probe around my butt. I was seething. This, this is what finally pushed me to the edge.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A WHORE!! DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME!!" I finally exploded. I didn't care if he recognized my voice, I was MAD. My voice echoed throughout the house. The stranger stopped on his tracks, one of his fingers halfway inside me, but just as quickly started moving it again as if he hadn't heard anything.

One finger became two fingers, well coated in saliva. It was awkward and painful; I had never had an experience such as this one and never had the slightest inclination of having it, not to mention this stranger was far from being gentle. I continued to yell obscenities on his direction but he ignored them completely, focusing on what he was doing. I felt a deep hatred within me, not only against him but also towards me. Why did I have an erection? How was it possible that my own body betrayed me in such a way? I was aware that it wasn't my fault, it was the drug's, but I still felt I should had been able to fight it in some way. Maybe the fucking faggot even thought I was enjoying it.

When he removed his fingers I felt no relief because I knew what it meant. And just as I thought, the thing I was dreading occurred: something way thicker replaced the fingers, taking its place in between my cheeks. I grunted and clenched them, determined to prevent him of entering me. He would not be able to, no way...

The man behind me started moving his hips with my asshole as its objective. My efforts did nothing to deter him; on the contrary, it seemed he was even more determined to fuck me. I had no chance of escaping; it was only a matter of time before I succumbed but I would die before I made it easy for him. Little by little, his dick started making its way in between my tight anal passage, his thick head hurting me as it entered. I clenched my teeth.

And he was inside me. And it hurt like hell. I wish I could say I remained stoic, only grunting due to the discomfort like the alpha male I am, but that is simply not true. What did happen is that I broke out in tears almost instantly, partly due to the pain but mostly due to the humiliation. I was being sodomized by a stranger and with that I could feel my manhood slipping away from me. I no longer was that strong, proud alpha player; I was a sobbing mess that was full of insecurities inside of me, insecurities that I had carried deep inside me for a long time. That man was fucking me as if I was less than a persona, nothing more than an object to be used for his relief. And so I was there, a grown man crying his eyes out.

I'm unaware if my tormentor was aware of any of that, but if he was he certainly made no sign of it. He picked up his rhythm, his hips slapping into mine as if there were no tomorrow. The pain was horrible, I felt I was been torn in half and that I would never be the same (and in a sense, I still think that). His hard dick kept entering and exiting me at great speed, and I was sniveling like a fucking child, trying to get my breathing under control.

He picked up his pace even more, grabbing me by my hips and moving my body in time with his, back and forth, back and forth. By now all resistance had left me, my body was nothing more than a puppet for him to move around and use as a cock sleeve. With one final thrust, he entered deep inside me, making me howl in pain. He himself growled like an animal, after which I felt, to my horror, his seed filling my insides. The feeling that I was going to be sick returned in tenfold.

And as suddenly as it started, it was over. Barely ten minutes had passed since he began fucking me, yet it felt like an eternity to me. Panting, he stayed for a few moments inside of me before he took it out with a disgusting wet sound.

"Thanks."

A single word. That's the only thing he said to me, and that single word was the most horrible thing he did to me. Because if he had kept quiet I would have lived the rest of my living thinking some random pervert had done the nasty to me and that would have been it. But he did said that word, and I felt someone had punched me in the gut when I heard it, because now I would have to live the rest of my life knowing that my younger brother had breed my ass like a cheap whore without him even knowing it.

His seed (my brother's seed!) started slipping through my hole and into my legs. I was numb.

I don't know how long I stood there, alone and motionless, nor do I know how long it took me to get out of the damned opening in the wall, but by then the semen in my leg was long dry and there was no-one around to be seen.

I didn't spent too much time there afterwards, I wanted to get away as fast as possible from the place I had lived a nightmare. I was still naked but somehow I cared less than before, I ran the rest of the way home taking only minimal precautions, and while I did encountered people on the way I was mostly successful in staying undetected by them.

My ass was on fire, every step reminded me of what had happened to it. At least there was one silver lining, which was that the drug effects were finally wearing off and my dick was shrinking down to its usual, petite size.

Half an hour later I was finally making my way to my parents' place. I had to be extra careful around it to avoid the neighbors, but I had the advantage of knowing the place perfectly so I knew where to hide. Taking a hidden key that they kept inside a flower pot I was finally home.

The first thing I did when I arrived was make a beeline to the bathroom, where I took a very long and very hot shower. I still had at least half an hour before anyone was home. I felt unclean and it wasn't only due to the dirt; it seemed every time I closed my eyes visions of Aron came to my mind. Aron and his enormous dick, Aron putting flowers on me, Aron fucking me and coming inside of me. I clenched my fists and hit the wall, frustrated. I simply couldn't get those thoughts out of my mind.

Half an hour later I was walking out of the bathroom covered in nothing more than a bathroom towel around my waist. I headed to my old room but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

"Hey, Owen," Aron said to me, his voice as calm as ever as if nothing had happened between us. He had arrived earlier than I thought, but I should've known he would. "What the hell happened to your back? You've got scratches all over!"

"I fell," I replied curtly. My mouth felt dry.

"Fell where? Jesus, man, you got bruises on your arms, not to mention in your lower back and..."

He suddenly was silent. Neither one of us said anything for a long time. I turned around and looked him in the eyes.

And I knew based on his expression that he now knew who his victim had been.