X point Y

This story is inspired by a paragraph in Davey's 'Dirk' story. I won't quote it here as it would be a spoiler but I'll put it at the end in case anyone hasn't guessed (unlikely).

It is posted here with Davey's permission. I set it in England because that's easier for me and it isn't really meant to be the same Doug but if you like you can imagine him growing up in England then emigrating to New York later.

X point Y

Steven Jones took his responsibility as year 11 soccer team captain seriously. After the normal weekly games lesson (team practice and inter-school games were extra-curricular activities) sixteen year old Steven had stopped to talk to the games master [phys ed teacher] about tactics for Saturday's coming 'grudge match' against the town's only other secondary school. As a result it was ten past four before he got into the now deserted changing room, stripped off his kit and got in the shower.

Emerging from the shower he dried off and then wrapped his towel round his waist. Funny, he thought, when he was with his school-mates he didn't bother doing that and neither did anyone else, but alone in an empty room force of habit kicked in.

He walked back to his peg. And stood there, bemused, staring stupidly at nothing. At the nothing that was in the space where his football kit, clothes and school bag should have been. Where he'd left them not ten minutes before.

He looked around, baffled. There was no sign of his things but there was a younger, nerdy looking boy with ginger hair and glasses sat in the corner reading a book. A James Baldwin novel, but Steven wasn't the literary type and didn't realise the significance of that. Yet. “Who the hell are you?” he asked. “And do you know where my stuff is?”

“I'm Douglas Damon” the boy replied. “My brother Terry's in your year. You thought it was fun to give him a dead leg the other day. Now I'm going to have fun with you.”

Terry Damon was a wimpy, nerdy, ginger boy who liked maths and science and hated sport and so a legitimate target for thoughtless casual violence from time to time. Nothing major, just the occasional bruise or Chinese burn, just normal school life. This Douglas seemed to be a carbon copy.

“Okay Damon,” said Steven menacingly, “you've got like one second to tell me where my stuff is before I beat it out of you.”

“Oh dear” said Doug. “How will that look? The football captain beating up a poor little fourteen year old year 9 kid with glasses? It wouldn't do you any good anyway. I'll tell you where if you like. It's in the boot [trunk] of my mum's car in the school car park. She's meeting Terry's maths teacher.

“If you beat me enough you can make me tell you the make and where to find the key. But you won't know if I told the truth until you get there and there's always loads of kids hanging around the entrance. Think you can get past them in that towel and keep it on?

“You make me go with you and I'll walk away as soon as there's a teacher in sight. Leave me here and I'm gone ten seconds after you are. Send me to fetch it and I don't come back. So what can you achieve by beating me up?

“I'm going to have fun with you and you're going to co-operate and obey me. You're going to take orders from a year 9 nerd and you're going to obey them because it's your only option and you know it. And then I'll get your stuff for you and you can get dressed. Take your time and think it over, there's no rush, no-one will come here for ages yet.” Doug returned his attention to his book and seemed to be ignoring Steve.

Steve thought through his options and realised Doug was right. Steve resolved to exact serious retribution as soon as the kid brought his clothes back, he obviously hadn't thought that far ahead. But for now he had no option but to humour him. “Okay then, what do you want?” he asked grimly.

“Well, first off, I want your towel.” Doug smiled happily. “I finally get to see you naked. You've no idea how long I've wanted that.”

“What?” Steve was shocked. “You want to....” He couldn't even say it. “What, are you queer or something? Why would you..... No! I can't do that! Just.... No!”

“Stevie, sweetie,” said Doug in a mocking tone, “of course I am. But the word is 'gay' not 'queer' you know. We don't use derogatory language in this year of our Lord 2009. Didn't you listen in PHSE? And you can't really afford to upset me just now can you?

“Every week you have games when I'm sat in room 014 by the window trying to concentrate on English Lit. And you and your friends walk by the window in your sexy short shorts and I know you'll be walking back the other way soon enough, all hot and sweaty. How's a boy supposed to concentrate on D.H. Lawrence with a distraction like that, wondering what's inside the shorts?

“Well, now I'm going to find out. Because you can do that and you will do that because you really don't have a choice about it. Now, hand me the towel and put both hands behind your neck. Otherwise I just walk away.” He stood up and started to turn away. “Oh, it's a blue Renault Megane by the way. The boot's not locked.”

“Wait!” Steve started to panic. He knew how many kids would be hanging around by the car park entrance at this time. His chances of keeping the towel on were virtually zero and, as Doug had pointed out, he couldn't be sure this Renault even existed. He really didn't have a choice. He pulled the towel off and tossed it to Doug, then put his hands behind his neck as instructed. “Happy now?” he asked sarcastically as Doug stared at him.

“Oh yes” replied Doug. “Very happy, and I'm going to get happier yet. Turn around slowly until you're facing me again. I want to see every bit of you.” Steve slowly turned around full circle until he was facing Doug again. Doug looked him over, his gaze eventually settling on his groin, where it remained for several long seconds.

The way the room was laid out there were shielded doors at each end with a six foot wide empty space between them. The door to outside was at one end, the door at the other end led to the area behind the stage in the school hall. The changing rooms were used for drama as well as sport. On the left hand side was the games masters' office, a toilet, and entrance to the showers. On the right were three U shaped arrangements of benches and hooks, which meant that either side of the central U was a double width bench used from both sides, with hooks screwed to a board several feet above supported only at the ends. Doug spread the towel out on this nice wide bench close enough to the wall that someone lying on it would have their feet almost touching the wall.

Doug patted the towel. “Come and lie down on your back over here Stevie” he invited. Steve, seeing no alternative, did so. He lay there uncomfortably as the smiling Doug literally looked down on him. “That's better. I can see your balls better now your dick's not hanging in front of them. Wow! Steve Jones lying there all naked just for little me. It's like a dream come true. You've got a nice body, nice cock and balls. Now play with it. Get it hard for me.”

Steve looked up at the implacable expression on Doug's face and knew this wasn't a request. If he didn't want to go outside without clothes searching for a mythical car that may or may not exist he had no choice. Doug watched with rapt attention as Steve stimulated himself with his fingers. His scrotum tightened and his penis grew longer and fatter. Soon Steve took his hand away. “That's it” he said as Doug stared at his throbbing erection, grinning with delight. Doug put his hand down his trousers to adjust himself. He didn't try to disguise his excitement; he wanted Steve to know about it.

Doug pulled a ruler out of his pocket. “Curiosity and insurance” he remarked as he took hold of Steve's erection and measured it. 'Wow, I'm actually touching it' thought Doug. 'Oh my God, he's touching my dick now' thought Steve. But Doug soon let go and committed the measurement to memory. He could see the question on Steve's face.

“It's possible that once you're dressed again you might want to come after me, or take it out on Terry.” This wasn't just possible it was virtually certain and they both knew it. “If you do, all your friends are going to know what you're getting revenge for, in detail. And they'll have your measurement to a tenth of an inch. I couldn't know that unless I'm telling the truth so they've got an easy way to check, except they'll probably need a couple of girls to help them verify it. If I was you I'd keep me and Terry safe, know what I mean? There's not going to be any presumption of innocence if your friends do something and we don't know if you put them up to it or not.”

Steve's erection died as he contemplated the dreadful prospect of everyone knowing he'd played with himself in front of a gay year 9 boy and allowed the boy to measure him. It wasn't to be thought of. Terry Damon might be a wimp but he was now a safe one, with Steve as his personal guardian angel.

“You've gone soft” complained Doug. “That's boring. Play with it some more, get it up again.” Seeing no alternative Steve once again applied his fingers. As he started growing again Doug added “but this time don't stop. Keep going until the end. I want to see you wank off properly and I want to see you come. That will be the last thing, I promise.”

Steve was getting used to the idea that, for now, he had no choice but to obey orders so, once erect, he wrapped his hand round his shaft and kept going. Doug sat down on the bench next to Steve's feet watching avidly from about three feet away on (right handed) Steve's left.

After a couple of minutes Steve started going faster. “This is EPIC” said Doug, happily, reminding Steve of the situation to slow things down and make it last longer. “Steven Jones the football hero. Stripped to his skin. Stark bollock naked. Wanking for me 'cos I told him to. Now he wants to come. I want that too. I bet there's loads of it. Can't wait to find out, when I see it shoot. When he makes himself come for me 'cos I said so. I'm going to use a lot of tissues when I get home.” Then he went quiet and didn't speak again, just watched Steve intently.

Doug's little speech had the inhibitory effect intended. Physically Steve was about ready to finish but now there was a mental block. He needed to come, but he hated the idea of “mak[ing] himself come for [Doug] 'cos [he] said so.”

Steve was in torment. His mind wanted this over. His body needed to ejaculate. But his inhibitions wouldn't allow it. He just couldn't finish with Doug sat there watching with that smug look on his face. He tried to look away but his gaze kept returning to the fourteen year old sat there watching, neatly dressed in his school uniform, openly enjoying the spectacle. Neatly dressed, that is, except he had loosened his trousers and put his hand down the front, blatantly touching himself while he watched Steve.

Eventually, after what seemed an age, Steve finally managed to overcome his inhibitions and achieve an orgasm. The abnormally long stimulation it took to get there resulted in an abnormally long and intense climax. He lay there gasping for breath as his sex organs slowly relaxed, his torso splattered with semen. Doug, who had watched this with delight, now stood up. He wiped a finger across Steve's stomach, then stuck it in his mouth and licked it. “Nice” he pronounced.

“Well, thanks for that” said Doug. “That was a lot of fun but I promised it would be the last thing so now I'll go and get your stuff. I'll be five or ten minutes but it'll probably feel like longer so keep an eye on that” - he pointed to the clock on the wall - “and try not to panic.” He looked at the mess on Steve's torso. “You might want to get back in the shower while you're waiting.”

Doug walked out of the door and Steve took his advice and jumped back in the shower. He washed as fast as possible, dried himself rapidly, wrapped the towel around himself and waited right by the door where he wouldn't be seen by anyone coming in. He'd temporarily forgotten the threats; he just wanted to make his tormentor pay for what he'd done.

Doug had walked out of the door but once confident he was out of Steve's sight he didn't go to the car park. Instead he sprinted around the building, into the classroom block, down the connecting corridor to the foyer by the school hall and canteen, then through a little-used door into the area behind the stage. He retrieved Steve's school bag and his own from where he'd hidden them among some junk left there and very carefully pushed the door to the changing room open.

Closing the door slowly and silently Doug very carefully and discretely peered around the length of wall that shielded the changing room from outside observation when the door was open. As he expected Steve was lurking by the outside door, waiting to grab him when he returned.

Doug stepped into the room. “X point Y” he said loudly, causing Steve to jump. Steve spun around to look at him and was on the verge of charging. “Stay there or I run” cautioned Doug. “And I won't come back a second time. You just remember 'X point Y.'”

“What the hell is 'X point Y'?” asked Steve, baffled.

“'X point Y' is the magic phrase” explained Doug. “'X point Y' is the size of your gorgeous big cock when it's rampant. God, I need to get home and think about 'X point Y' in action before my balls explode! I know what numbers X and Y represent and so do you. If me or Terry or any of our friends say 'X point Y' to you that's the magic phrase. You keep them safe or everybody will know what X and Y are and everybody will know how I know. You'll be the laughing stock of the school.”

Doug reached behind the shielding wall and got Steve's bag. He slid it across the floor in Steve's direction. “All your clothes are in there” he said. “See you around, big guy” he added as he turned. He picked up his own bag and walked back out of the room.

The End

P.S. The paragraph from Davey's story is, of course:

"Doug was also into humiliation. He had humiliated a straight jock in high

school,quite easily, and he had considered it a trophy achievement in his

life. (He'd stolen the jock's clothes in the locker room and then made the

jock masturbate for him to get the clothes back. This had been surprisingly

easy, and it had given Doug a taste of dominance and stoked his

humiliation tendencies.)”