Kyle and Geoff Bully Me in My Own Home
by Andrew D
I came home to find Geoff and Kyle on my couch, chilling with my girlfriend, Michelle. I was surprised to see the boys there, but it seemed like Michelle invited them over after running into them outside our home.
Kyle seemed irritated by me once I joined the three of them, like I was being a buzzkill. He was the neighborhood bully, a 6’2″ wigger jock who had the body of a linebacker and was at least five or six years younger than me. Kyle could never stay out of trouble. Everyone in the neighborhood knew he sold weed, was arrested for possession of a firearm, and did some jail time for trafficking. Suffice it to say, it was uncomfortable for me to have him in my home.
On the other hand, it was normal for Geoff to hang out at our place. He was about 5’7”, stocky and preppy, and had short, dirty blonde hair. Geoff started off as a good kid but later developed somewhat of a bully mentality once he started hanging out with Kyle. He had dinner with my girlfriend and me in our apartment on many occasions, and we often drove him to school or home if he slept on our couch after a late-night drinking with his friends. I helped him out when I could because I liked the kid, as did my girl. But when Kyle and he became tight, Geoff’s attitude towards me seemed to be more dominant, more assertive.
Recently, the things I was doing for Geoff as favors began to be expected of me. For instance, when I invited Geoff over for dinner, he would sometimes scold me for not having it ready by the time he arrived, which Michelle got a kick out of, for some reason. She seemed to like his sudden domination over me. Geoff would also sometimes dump his dirty laundry at my place, with a scheduled finished time written on a note inside the laundry bag. Even though I was offended that I wasn’t being asked to do favors for him, I still did what I could for Geoff, and certainly didn’t think any less of him.
Back to the present, Kyle sat across from me, intimidating me with his scowl, though I did my best not to show the effect this had. Kyle could see the fear in my eyes each time he looked at me. I can’t tell you how puny he made me feel, which was even more humiliating as we were all in my goddamn apartment.
Michelle remained seated beside him, unable to stay still, her body withering the more the wigger jock’s right arm jerked. A big sofa pillow and blanket covered her lap and most of her body. She might have been way out of my league, but sitting next to Kyle, she looked like a trophy sitting next to the alpha male of the room.
Michelle was making faces the more Kyle’s arm moved. Her legs were twitching, and at one point, she kicked her legs in mid-air, spreading them as she exhaled. I realized what the neighborhood wigger was doing to the love of my life under that blanket. Kyle made eye contact with me the entire time, knowing I didn’t have the balls to stop him. The audacity of this punk kid, bullying me and having his way with my girlfriend in my own apartment, on my own couch. I was feeling so many conflicted emotions, yet was paralyzed in my seat. I was afraid to stop him.
When Michelle got up, she didn’t make eye contact with me, looking guilty as she adjusted her dress and walked into the kitchen. As I got up to join her, Kyle put his big hand on my head and pushed me back down to my seat. I was at eye level with his crotch, amazed at the bulge in his baggy jeans. He grabbed my chin and pulled my head upward so I could make eye contact with him. I sat there, timid and trembling at the big athletic wigger before me, wondering what he was going to do.
Kyle took his index finger and wiped it under my nose, above my lip. His finger was wet, somewhat sticky. Kyle left his finger under my nose long enough for me to take a whiff of it. When he saw the confusion on my face, he laughed, passive-aggressively smacking my cheeks a few times with his big football-catching hand. Whatever Kyle wanted me to smell of his wet finger, I knew it wasn’t something that appealed to me.
“Told ‘ya the fuckin’ faggot wouldn’t recognize the scent,” Kyle said to Geoff while laughing down at me.
Suddenly, Kyle slipped one of his sneakers off, grabbed his right shoe, and held the opening of it to my face. My nose and mouth could only breathe in the scent of the sweat in his sneaker. Geoff was laughing while the wigger jock grabbed the back of my head and pushed my face into the opening of his running shoe.
“Take a big whiff, homo,” Kyle shouted at me, while Geoff giggled away. The more I struggled to break away, the stronger the sinister wigger’s grip on my head became. I felt like a kitten being picked on by a bulldog.
I began to panic, not because I was being picked on in my own home, but because I was starting to grow a boner. Oh no - not now! What if Kyle, Geoff, or my girlfriend caught me with a hard-on as I was sniffing the inside of a jock’s sneaker? I crossed my legs together as subtly as possible, which only made me weaker. I wasn’t putting up a fight against Kyle, which only encouraged him to bully me harder. My face was so wedged into the opening of his sweaty sneaker that I was practically wearing it as a gas mask. I suspected he didn’t even need to hold it up to my head anymore, that’s how fastened it was to my nose and mouth.
After making a fool of me, Kyle put his shoe back on his feet and thumbed to a bag sitting on the floor beside Geoff’s. Apparently, Geoff told him what a good job I did with his laundry and that Kyle wanted me to do his, too. He didn’t instruct me to clean his clothes, nor did he explain why he thought I would. He just gave me his address and told me I could come by his place after 7:00 pm the next day to drop them off. When I said, sarcastically, if he wanted them folded too, he lunged at me, making me flinch. This caused Geoff to laugh at me once again.
“You gettin’ lippy with me, fuck-boy?” Kyle said, getting in my face.
“No!” I yelped, making the wigger jock smirk. “Not…not at all!”
“My boxer shorts and my socks are in that bag,” Kyle said, pointing to his dirty clothes. “I want them hand-washed.”
“You can’t be serious,” I replied, incredulously. That earned me an open-palmed slap from Kyle.
“Dude,” Geoff said to Kyle. “You know he’s gonna beat off to your dirty socks and undies, right?”
“What?!” I shouted. This earned me another slap from Kyle.
“Does he do that with your clothes?” Kyle wondered, looking down at me with disgust.
“Probably,” Geoff shrugged, also eyeing me down with disdain. “I mean, that’s what these faggots do, right? Worship the aroma of real men?”
“I can’t believe you would even suggest such a thing,” I said to Geoff, turning my head to him while Kyle was still staring me down. It was frustrating that Geoff was talking about me, right beside me.
I should have known better than to speak up for myself. I suddenly found my arm twisted against my back. A swift kick to the back of my knees forced me to them. I looked up to see Geoff staring down at me with his arms crossed, which meant that Kyle was the one behind me, holding me down. Geoff sat down in my loveseat behind him, slipped his sneaker off, and held his white sweatsocked foot up. I felt Kyle’s hand against the back of my head, and suddenly, my face was pushed towards Geoff’s sweaty sole.
“Sniff away, fag,” Geoff chuckled. “You can get it straight from the source, just this once.” He laughed.
I did what I was told while praying neither Kyle of Geoff noticed my growing erection. His feet were still warm, like they were inside his sneakers for the better part of a day. I could feel the heat radiating off his damp sock, and I appreciated it. No, I was in awe of it.
“What a faggot,” Kyle said behind me, smacking my head a few times to snap me out of my enamored daze. “He’s not even fighting it.”
At this point, I realized he wasn’t holding my head anymore, meaning I was sniffing Geoff’s foot of my own accord. Without warning, his thick, meaty foot covered up my whole face and pushed me back. I fell backward to see Michelle had emerged from the bathroom and rejoined us.
I eagerly went over to my girlfriend, almost looking at her as a protector of sorts. I tried to kiss her on the cheek, but her head moved just as my lips were about to make contact with her skin. She had the same idea, but instead, gave a kiss on Kyle’s cheek. I embarrassingly walked back to the living room while she spoke with the boys. About five minutes later, Michelle told me the three of them were going for a walk, suggesting I stay behind, lest I endure more bullying. She had pity in her voice when she spoke to me.
After they left, I looked outside the window to see them walking away, with Kyle’s hand around Michelle’s waist. Kyle looked over his shoulder and saw me staring from behind the window. His expression changed to disgust again as he elbowed Geoff, who turned back to look at me as well. Unlike his friend, Geoff simply smirked and flipped me the bird.
I scurried out of their sight, looking at the bags of the boys’ dirty laundry. My eyes caught a pair of Geoff’s dirty white sweat socks at the top of his bag. I walked over and picked up the dirty sock, taking a whiff of it. I wondered to myself why I wasn’t grossed out by the smell of a student’s dirty socks, but was repulsed by the scent of whatever Kyle made me sniff off his finger. I was also thankful for the sudden solitude I was granted, knowing I was going to have to do something about the boner still lingering in my pants. I was rudely interrupted by a buzzing on my phone.
“I’m going to hang out with the boys for a while,” Michelle’s text said. “Not sure when I’ll be home…”
“Take your time, honey,” I replied back before putting the phone down before picking Geoff’s sock back up. I brought it up to my nose and took the biggest whiff I could.
“Take all the fucking time you need,” I giggled to myself, noticing how drenched my underwear was from pre-cum.