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Shivering, cold, feeling weaker than ever before, I look up at them with my heart beating a million miles per hour.
From my vantage point… the dim wet tile floor of the girls locker room at my high school, they seem to tower over me like strange Satanic titans. I’ll capitalize the letters in titans that were most obvious; TITanS; TITS.
I can see their panties from where I am; wet; stained; moist with anticipation for the fucking they’ll get later; I imagine what I know they must be imagining; strong, tall, powerful sportsmen with the cocks of Greek gods pounding them into the bed, making them feel more like women, less like girls. And then I kind of see what they must see (or not see) in me. I hang my head, unable to face them.
The “leader” is Monica, an Hispanic goddess so gorgeous and thusly deserving of admiration that my thin dick salutes her helplessly when I see her.
The other two are Tiffany and Vanessa. Vanessa just-slightly-overweight and also Hispanic, but less so in appearance, and Tiffany a tall WASPy blonde with perfect legs and a way of rolling her eyes that can cut deeply into a boy.
“Look at what a fucking little LOSER!” Tiffany says, “He’s like the dictionary Bostancı Türbanlı Escort definition of FAG!”
The others laugh, especially Monica. “Totally,” says Monica, “Has he ever even gone on a date?”
“Doubt it,” says Vanessa, “Not a little wimp like HIM.”
Tiffany erupts into uproarious laughter, pointing at my thin (and thinly veiled) little dick.
Through the tighty whiteys, my erection is obvious.
“Even when we LAUGH AT YOU, that little peepee gets HARD!” laughs Monica.
Her short dark hair frames a cruel and perfect face, “Pull off those sissy shorts so we can see the little worm we’re laughing at!”
I obey, standing up, and brace myself for their scrutiny. Words echo in my mind; everything I’m always called;
“fucking faggot” “little shrimp” “girly girl” “bitch boy” “lady ass” “the ugly fuckling.”
The room feels strange; humid and dry at once, hot and cold at once, like a fever dream location that my mind is making up, but it’s not; it’s real.
I’m really here with three goddesses delighting in my shame and fear… excited by the power they have over me.
Monica cackles as I slip off my undies. My “piece-of-shit” Bostancı Otele Gelen Escort penis is exposed for all to see.
“Look at what a GIRL you are!” she shouts.
“I know!” Vanessa howls with glee, “He’s such a little PUSSY! We should dress him up in a bra and panties and drag him through the school for EVERYONE to LAUGH AT!”
By this time, tears were falling out of my eyes. I was visibly shaken, and my mind was racing. I couldn’t think of how to escape.
“What would you do, little Mr. Mangina?” Tiffany asks, her pale white skin glowing in the semi-darkness of the locker room, “What would you do to keep us from TOTALLY fucking up your life!”
Just then, out of nowhere, Monica swung her foot high through the air, knocking my glasses off my head and flooring me. I could still see OK, but knew my mom would KILL me if she found out my glasses were broke again.
“PLEASE!” I begged, shouting. “Please let me… GOD! I’ll… just DON’T…!!!” I was frantic.
I was weeping, my body convulsed and pulsated with fear and anger and humiliation.
“How’s it feel to be beaten by a GIRL?” laughed Vanessa, “You really are a FUCKING WIMP, you Bostancı Ucuz Escort know that?”
My tailbone hurt badly, I had landed on it when I was kicked.
“If you want your glasses back,” said Monica, “You’ll have to earn it.”
“HOW!?!” I begged, “I’ll do ANYTHING!”
Monica smirked at Tiffany and Tiffany went to her gym locker and pulled out her deodorant and a bag of tampons.
“LICK THIS!” she said, throwing the deodorant at my head… hard.
I uncapped the thing and licked, tasting the sour, bitter taste of the deodorant stick and leftover sweat from her armpits.
Then Tiffany and Vanessa held me down to the ground and Monica put a tampon in my asshole.
“Now you really ARE a WOMAN, you clit-for-a-dick little SHIT-STAIN!”
Tears rolled down my face as they laughed at me. My penis was rock hard though.
They began to slap me hard. The sting of their palms and back-of-hands lasted long, and I started crying harder.
Monica removed a pair of dirty, cum-stained, pissed-on and shat-in pantyhose from her locker.
The girls had been messing them up in every way they could; drizzling their boyfriends’ condoms on them, peeing on them, everything. They had done it just for this occasion.
The entire thing was planned. By now the globs of cum on them had dried and the shit was hard clumps and the piss had soaked in.
Monica held my nostrils shut, and when I had to open my mouth to breathe… in went the disgusting hosiery.
END of PART ONE