Edgar's Education
by Anonymous
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The
male members of my class identified me as being gay as earlier as
third grade, of course I didn’t even know what being ‘gay’
meant at the time. I just knew it must be bad if these guys were
taunting me with it. Regardless of my level of awareness, my fate
was sealed as soon as one of them looked at me and said for the
first time, “Edgar is a homo, Edgar is a homo.”
I was a hopeless case; their innate sense for spotting weaklings
combined with an instinctual hostility towards all fags, wusses,
and nerds made me their natural enemy. Not that I didn’t try
hard not to be. I so wanted to be a part of the ‘in’
crowd, and I would have done anything to be accepted by them. Elementary
school had been unbearable. My only friends were girls, since every
time I tried to join up with the other boys they simply made me
their target for ridicule.
Then I even tried hiding from them, but inevitably one of them would
see me out in the schoolyard and yell, “Hey guys! There’s
the fag, Let’s play ‘smear the queer’,”
and then they’d all come running after me.
Usually I got away from them unscathed in the early years, but things
became much different once I got into High School. Part of my problem
was, despite wanting to fit in, I picked all the wrong activities
to be involved in. I was in band and the choir, I acted in all the
school plays, and academically I was far above the class average
with my grade point at a constant 4.0. Well, needless to say, I
was labeled the ‘class fag.’ At that stage of adolescence,
girls were more interested in hanging out with the ‘real’
guys, in other words, the jocks, leaving me behind in a cloud of
dust. Not a day went by when I wasn’t called “homo,”
“faggot,” “dick-breath,” or even the more
general insults like “wuss,” “pussy,” and
“wimp.” In fact, I think most of the guys actually forgot
my real name, and probably most of the girls, too.
The jocks were the most brutal guys of all the guys in school, even
though the ‘hoods’ had the worse reputation. In reality,
the hoods never bothered anyone. They would rarely get into a fight
unless they were provoked, and then it’d be a fight to the
end. But they weren’t like the jocks, who lived to torment
others just for the fun of it. Most of them were so smug and arrogant
they couldn’t even look at me without smirking, and the temptation
to make a rude comment about me to amuse everyone around them was
always too great to pass up. You could say I was a source of entertainment
to them. Gradually their jokes crossed the line from just plain
old verbal abuse to actual physical humiliation, which only increased
the amusement for them. At least once a day a football or basketball
player would trip me from behind as I walked down the hallways.
I’d fall to the floor and look up to see them grinning at
me, wearing their super expensive athletic shoes and designer jeans
and strutting into the classroom.
The severest of all my High School humiliation came directly from
Travis. It started in my sophomore year when I decided to do something
about my social predicament. I figured all I had to do was just
join a team sport. Then I’d be one of them and they’d
have to accept me. The problem was I knew nothing about any sports.
Football was way too intimidating for me, besides I was only 5’9”,
125 pounds back then. So, I waited for basketball season and tried
out for the team. In the small town where I lived sophomores were
not eligible for the varsity team, so anyone who could run and jump
that tried out for junior varsity made the team. After I was in
I was so hopeful; it seemed like the perfect plan. The guys were
different to me at first, almost nice. They even said ‘just
kidding’ to me every time they made a joke about me outside
of practice, and during practice they just kind of ignored me. I
felt as though my torment was finally coming to an end.
Our first game was out-of-town. I wasn’t nervous about it
at all because I knew I wasn’t going to have to play. I was
actually afraid of the ball and Coach Sanders knew it; I could barely
even run and dribble at the same time. But one thing was for sure,
I was on the team, I was just one of the guys. The game was over
before I knew it and we on our way home as victors.
The coach decided to stop at McDonalds for dinner, so that all of
us could get out of the bus one last time before the long trip home.
He gave us 30 minutes and told us to be back the bus on time and
ready to head home. Once inside, all the guys started ordering.
Every time I tried to make my way up to the counter, one of the
guys would step in front of me and order his first. When I was finally
up to the counter, ready to order, Travis shouted over to me that
they had already ordered and paid for mine. He said it’s a
tradition for the team captain to buy the new guy his meal on the
first ‘away’ game of the season. I was really surprised
by his generosity, but I figured this meant I had really made it
‘in’. I followed Travis to the dining section of the
restaurant where all the guys had started filing into the tables.
Travis set down his tray at a circular booth with six other guys
already sitting around it.
He looked back at me and said, “Squeeze in Edgar, there’s
plenty of room there for your skinny ass.” He laughed and
so did the six other guys. I figured his teasing was just old habit,
so I tried not to take it personally. I scooted in next to, Derek,
my next-door neighbor; then the 6’2”, 210 lb. Travis
sat down hard and squashed me between the two of them. No one seemed
to care or even take notice that I was squished in between the two
big guys. The other teammates were already eating as Travis started
sifting through his pile of Big Macs to find the one plain hamburger
he bought for me.
Before he handed it to me he unwrapped it and said, “Edgar,
it’s been a tradition that the new guy every season has to
go through the team initiation at McDonalds. It’s like this,
to show us you are really part of the team, I’m gonna pass
your hamburger around this table so that each of us can hock a king-size
loogie on it. Once it gets back to you, you get the honor of eating
it. ALL OF IT!” Then he lifted the bun off the burger and
set it on the table. He made a loud snort through his nose, cleared
his throat and then bent forward to allow a huge wad of spit and
snot to roll out of his mouth onto the beef patty.
The other guys clapped and gave him an Olympic type numerical score,
‘9.9, 9.7, 9.8,’ et cetera, while Travis passed it to
the next guy at the table. Each of them followed Travis’s
lead by making loud noises from their throats to conjure up the
biggest, slimiest loogie possible to spit on my little sandwich.
By the time it got to Derek on the other side of me, it was covered
in so much white-bubbly, yellowish-green saliva that the burger
was barely visible.
Derek looked down at it and smirked, saying, “Dude, that is
the sickest shit I’ve ever seen!” Then he followed along
and hocked one last giant wad of spit onto it. All of them were
smiling as Derek handed it over to me and Travis flopped the top
bun back on the burger.
“Enjoy!” Travis said smugly. And they all sat there
staring at me, ready to watch me eat it. Well, I was so fucking
disgusted by this, but I had to do it; it was my big chance to show
that I was one of the guys. Without any more thought, I picked up
the hamburger and shoved a big mouthful in to my mouth. As I bit
down and pulled it away, long strings of gooey saliva strung out
of it like hot melted cheese. The guys broke into hysterics, half
laughing and half groaning with disgust over what I was doing.
The slimy texture oozed inside my mouth and down my throat, and
the more I thought about it the more it made me sick to my stomach.
The jocks around me kept egging me on to eat the rest of it. Even
though they were laughing at me, I felt good because I was proving
to them that I wasn’t a wimp. But, then something peculiar
happened. As I felt the muscular legs of Derek and Travis moving
around on each side of me, something happened that I wasn’t
prepared for. Suddenly, being so close and touching them made me
feel strangely warm and liquid inside. I was fifteen years old and
had never even masturbated yet, so the rise in my pants and the
tingling sensation that followed it was more intense than anything
I had ever felt in my body before. I never really thought about
sex back then, I hadn’t felt attracted yet to a girl and I
was horrified with the idea of liking a guy that way. So, I just
avoided it all together. But, it was impossible this time. I felt
my face turn red and my breath became hurried. I tried to concentrate
on the disgusting spit covered hamburger I was eating. But, every
time Travis and Derek laughed, they stomped their feet and their
strong legs carelessly bumped against mine. As I put the last bite
of hamburger in my mouth, Travis condescendingly put his arm around
my shoulder and patted me firmly on my opposite arm; the feel of
his strong hands and his iron torso next to mine sent my blood to
a rapid simmer. I felt a sudden blast of euphoria followed by a
startling eruption in my underwear and the sensation of warm juice
flowing out of my dick as my body jolted slightly in my seat.
Travis withdrew his arm quickly and said, “Whoa!! If you’re
going to barf, get the fuck away from me!” But I shook my
head ‘no’ and concentrated on swallowing the last bite,
hoping to God no one noticed what happened in my pants. When they
all saw that I had swallowed the last bite, they cheered and then
laughed at me even more. Travis looked at me and said, “I
can’t believe you actually ate that shit, you are one major
freak!” And the other guys made fun of how red I turned. I
made a motion to get out of the booth, and Travis jumped right up
thinking I might have to puke. I slid out of the booth and hurried
off to the bathroom.
In the bathroom stall I frantically cleaned out the front of my
white briefs as my mind raced between the humiliation of eating
the burger and the shock of my unexpected orgasm. I prayed to God
that what happened wasn’t real, that I wasn’t gay or
into guys, but it was so hard to explain what had happened. I tried
to calm myself down and relax with the knowledge that I had successfully
completed the initiation and now I was one of them. After a few
minutes of trying to chill out, I went to the sink and splashed
cold water on my face and then walked back out to the dining room.
All the guys on the team including Travis and Derek were filing
out the door of the restaurant on their way back to the bus. I was
happy to get out of there because the smell of the burgers was making
me sick after having just eaten one covered in jock spit. Outside
there was snow and ice on the ground from an early winter storm.
It was cold and all the guys hurried across the parking lot to the
waiting bus. The coach was in the first seat, and all the team members
filed in towards the back half of the bus. When I stepped up inside,
Derek yelled to me that they had saved me a place in the very last
seat across the aisle from him and Travis. I was elated that they
wanted me to sit by them, and I knew for sure my days of torment
were finally over.
Soon after I sat down in my seat, the bus pulled away and headed
to the highway to take us home. The inside of the bus was dark,
lit only by the headlights from cars off in the distance. The jumbled
voices of the other teammates filled the bus with talk about the
night’s victory or about which cheerleaders were the hottest
or whatever. Just as I began to relax, Derek reached across the
aisle and slapped me on the shoulder. He said, “Dude, your
initiation isn’t done yet. You forgot about your fries.”
Then he opened a McDonalds bag and lifted out a carton of French
fries. He started to hand them over to me as if I could just eat
them normally, but when I reached for them he pulled them away and
said ‘PSYCH!’ Then with an evil smirk on his face he
took the carton in between his legs and then tipped it over on the
floor, spilling the fries all around his and Travis’s feet.
All the guys from the surrounding seats turned around to see what
would happen next. Derek smiled and said in a mocking voice, “Damn,
I spilled your fries all over the floor.” Then he started
to stomp his big sneakers on the fries, mashing them all over the
bus floor. “Oh shit, now look what I’ve done, I just
stepped in them. How clumsy of me!” Travis laughed and then
started doing the same thing to the fries around his shoes.
When the fries were thoroughly mashed and covered in grey street
grit, Travis stopped and said, “Gee, Edgar, looks like the
only way you’re going to be able to finish eating your initiation
is by gettin’ down on these FLOOR FRIES…mmmm, sure looks
good!” Then Derek told me that I didn’t have to do it
if I just agreed to quit the team tonight. But I didn’t want
to lose my newly found ‘jock’ status, so without another
thought I got down on the floor and edged near the stomped fries.
But, Derek and Travis didn’t move an inch. “Get on your
stomach and crawl over here if you want these fries,” Derek
said and Travis added, “And pick them up off the floor with
your teeth.” He and everyone else watching laughed.
I did it. I got down on my stomach and inched my body towards them
until my head was just two inches from Derek’s size 13 Nikes.
The fries were scattered all over the floor and they were smooshed
and dirty from the soggy treads of Travis and Derek’s shoes.
Then I methodically started to lower my lips to the floor and began
sucking up the fries into my mouth. All the guys were laughing and
cheering, calling me names and mocking me. The big sneakers next
to my head were bouncing around from the hysterical laughter of
their owners. Then Travis lifted one of his feet up to his knee
and pulled out a pack of ketchup; then he ripped it open and squirted
it onto the bottom of his Adidas sneaker. “Looks like you
need some ketchup, fag, I made it easy for you and squirted some
on the treads of my shoe so that it’ll be closer to your face
down there on the floor,” Travis said laughing at me. Then
he dropped his foot back down and shoved his sneaker in front of
my face, tilting the sole up so that I could lick the ketchup off
of it. It took all my pride to exit my body before I could stick
my tongue out and drag it along his gritty shoe bottom. When I did,
they all roared with laughter. I licked every last drop of the ketchup
and ate every crumb of French fries off the floor. I had never been
so humiliated in my life. When I was finished and they told me to
go back and sit in my seat, Travis still laughing turned to me and
said, “Oh, one last thing, fag, there really isn’t a
initiation ritual…but thanks for licking my shoe, it’s
about time it was cleaned!” Once again they all laughed at
me, and then Derek added, “So, enjoy being the basketball
team’s buffoon, loser, because that’s all you’ll
be good for…why don’t you show some fucking respect
for yourself and just quit.”
With that my dreams were smashed. I was devastated. I would never
be a part of their world. They humiliated me and rejected me…again.
Not only that, but now I was even questioning my own sexuality.
I mean, even though it was disgusting to lick Travis’s shoe,
just being down there beneath him and Derek got me excited. Intensely
excited, so that I could barely even think straight. Maybe that
was why I was so willing to follow their degrading orders. I was
so confused and lonely and out of my mind about it all. The next
day I dropped out of the team.
I hoped quitting basketball would return everything back to the
way it was before I started. Even though it was bad before, it was
never as intense as that night on the bus. But the door had been
opened wide on my loser status, and the jocks had discovered a new
level of torment to put me through. For starters I wasn’t
safe in the locker room anymore. That wouldn’t have been a
problem except that I had gym class three times a week. I was assaulted
with wedgies every single chance they had. Some of the guys would
attempt to lift me off the ground while doing a one-handed wedgy;
I guess it was some sort of strength contest to them. I was also
treated to swirlies a few times a month, usually coinciding with
a victory in whatever team sports they were involved in at any given
time. For clarification, a swirlie is when they stick a guy’s
head in the toilet and then flush it.
Unfortunately for me, Travis’s gym locker was assigned right
next to mine that year. I always tried to rush through my shower
and get dressed so I could escape his torture. Sometimes I would
be getting dressed as he came out of the shower, he’d start
loudly yelling about how I had stupidly tracked water all over the
floor. Then he’d tell me to get down on the floor and mop
it up with my shirt, the one I was already wearing. He and the other
guys would laugh at me rolling around on the floor, getting water
and locker room scum all over my shirt. After the first couple times
I did this, he got bored of it and took it to the next level. As
I was rolling around trying to dry the floor, he would tell me to
stop and lay flat on my back. Then he sat down on the bench and
used my shirt to dry off his feet. The other guys thought Travis
was hysterical; they’d laugh and cheer him on. He would make
me lay there while he put on his socks. He’d grind and smear
his socked feet in my face, saying stuff like, “Man, I’m
trying to get this stink out of my fucking socks…rubbing them
in this pussy’s face seems to be the only thing that works.”
Then he nicknamed me ‘Maytag’ because I was his sock
washing machine. He called me that in the halls and in class so
that everyone around knew he was referring to the fact that he regularly
wiped his feet on my face…and I allowed it.
Usually after the sock treatment, he would finish getting dressed
and then use my face or chest to push against while sliding his
feet into his shoes. Then he’d stand up with his full weight
on my stomach. He would laugh at me and call me ‘Maytag the
fag’ or just ‘faggot scum’. Other times he’d
practically ignore me as I squirmed under his athletic shoes. He
would carry on a conversation with another guy and they’d
both pretend I wasn’t there, or he’d finally step off
of me and then give me a fake apology and pretend like he didn’t
realize I was on the floor still.
The worst part of it all was as much as he humiliated me and laughed
at me, I still idolized him. I mean, I didn’t like how he
treated me, but no matter what he did to me, I still thought he
was so cool. I would have done anything to be next to him. I even
started thinking about him when I wasn’t in school. Every
night, every morning I thought of him. I even kept an envelope of
pictures of him from the sports section of the local newspaper.
It was intense and I was so confused, but no matter what I did I
couldn’t snap out of it.
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