High School Humiliation
by Liam Priestly

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While high school is remembered by some as a part of the fun, carefree days of their youth, I imagine there are an equal number for whom thoughts of those years are avoided whenever possible.

For several reasons, I am one who is numbered among the latter.

I was not a particularly handsome eighteen-year-old - awkward socially and physically, too tall, too pale, and definitely too poor to be a part of the popular crowd. Life was a kind of hell for me then and I was unable to tell anyone for fear of being labeled "a cry baby"- on top of everything else. Though there were many days that were especially humiliating, there was one in particular that had a lasting effect.

It was my freshman year. I had only recently celebrated my birthday. During the noon lunch break one day near the end of the school year I was minding my own business, as I passed by a group of the most popular and envied teenaged boys in the school. I longed to be a part of their clique. I thought about how wonderful it would be to be accepted as one of their friends. I was truly "in awe" of them. I was also frightened to death of walking too close to them; especially when they were in a group as they were right then. They always had something degrading to shout at me.

As usual, the center of attention was Steve Coletti. He was just finishing his junior year and was a full three years older than I. And, if his extraordinary physical attractiveness wasn't enough, he was also from the wealthiest family in town.

Steve was talking to his friends about an upcoming party he was giving for his friends at his parent's estate - just outside of town. Each of his friends had been invited and as I approached them I heard Keith (Steve's best friend) say, "I'll bet Calvin doesn't get to come..." he directed his remark to no one in particular, but obviously it was intended for me to hear.

Steve laughed loudly and said "Hey, Calvin--d'ya wanna come to a swimming party at my place?' The group snickered as I eagerly walked towards them. "Sure, you bet Steve, that'd be great!" As I stood in front of Steve, the other boys formed a circle around me. I could tell by the way Steve was quietly sizing me up that he knew he was better than me, and that he also knew how badly I wanted to be included in anything that he did. He leaned against the wall behind him - crossing his arms on his chest.

"Do you really want to come?" Steve arrougantly asked. "Sure I do, it'd be fantastic!" I replied. And I truly meant it! Steve looked down at his shoes as he shifted his weight and slowly crossed one ankle over the other. Looking back up at me, he smiled and said, "Well, maybe if you ask me real nice...Say please." I fidgeted nervously, feeling embarrassed in front of the rich kids. I looked down at Steve's feet, and glanced at Keith's out of the corner of my eye..."Please Steve, can I come to your party?" I said quietly.

Steve offered no relief from the tension. "Not if that's the best you can do. Try getting down on your knees and beg me for an invitation." Everyone laughed except me. Steve's posture exhuded arrogance and power. My eyes were silently pleading with Steve to change the requirements. Steve just laughed at me and pointed to the ground at his feet. "Get down on your knees and beg. This time, call me 'Sir'!" Steve ordered.

Realizing there was no escape I stared at the ground and slowly dropped one knee, and then the other. "Please Sir..." my voice was actually trembling. By this time there were several more guys gathered around to watch the show Steve was putting on...they were laughing and jeering. In response to the attention he was getting he said "Wait a minute...I like the 'Sir' part, but as long as you're on your knees, I wanna see you bow all the way down to my feet."

"Yeah, bow down to him or we'll kick your ass, faggot" Keith added. "And kiss the ground I walk on while your down there," Steve added.

I could see Keith's penny laagered feet planted firmly in the dust producing gravel right next to Steve's feet. I knew that no matter how humiliating or embarrassing it might be, I had no choice but to do what I was told. I looked up at Steve and Keith from my kneeling position. I grimaced from the pain the sharp gravel was producing in my kneecaps...both Steve and Keith laughed at my predicament.

I wanted to run, but there was no where to go. Besides they would have stopped me before I could even get off my knees. I looked down at their feet in front of me and placing my hands palms down in front of me, I slowly drew my head and body downward. With my head just inches from the gravel in front of Steve's feet, Keith took one step forward and placed his penny-loafered foot directly on the back of my neck. "When we tell you to bow down to us, you'd better do it. Do you hear me faggot?”

"Yes, I'll do it...I'll do whatever you tell me to do," I pleaded.

Keith ground his shoe harder and shifted more weight onto the back of my nearly prostrate neck. "Get you chin up, so you can see my feet boy," Steve ordered. I struggled under the weight of Keith's foot. When I'd gotten into position, the bottom of my jaw was purposefully shoved into the small, sharp gravel. Keith's foot remained firmly planted on my neck. When I opened my eyes I was staring directly into Steve's dirty white tennis shoe. I watched helplessly as Steve's right foot drew back, then forward, kicking me full-force in the face; once, twice, three times... I lost count... it kept on going. The other guys were cheering Steve on, "Kick him harder... Do it again...Show him who's giving the orders, Steve..."

By the time Steve stopped kicking my face, my lips were swollen and bleeding slightly, as was my nose. Steve laughed along with the rest of the crowd. "I heard you say that you'd do anything I tell you to do, right boy?" Steve shoved the toe of his shoe against my throbbing lips. As I opened my mouth to answer him he shoved the toe of his tennis shoe all the way into my mouth..."Hey, look everybody, he wants to lick my dirty tennis shoes." Keith's foot twisted and pushed down cruelly on the back of my neck.

"Yeh, I want my penny loafers licked too, you little pussy." Steve pushed his foot further into my open mouth, "Lick my shoe clean boy. Get your hands behind your back." I obeyed. Steve could feel my tongue on the bottom of his foot (through the sole of his tennis shoe) licking hard and fast.

The width of Steve'e tennis shoe was stretching the corners of my mouth to the limit. My eyes were watering and tears were streaming down my cheeks. I could hear Steve continuing to laugh at me. I could see his other foot right in front of my face waiting for its turn inside my mouth, and I could feel Steve wriggling his toes in his tennis shoe. Keith kept his foot firmly planted on the back of my neck, pushing hard enough to make me hold still for any treatment they might want to "dish out."
When I agreed to "do anything" Steve and Keith told me to do, I meant that I truly thought it would be a great honor to attend that swimming party at Steve's, and if that meant letting these two guys shove dirty shoes in my mouth it was okay with me.

It hurt both physically and mentally.

I was completely humiliated - not merely embarrassed. Steve jerked his foot out of my mouth The toe of his shoe was wet and clean from the licking I had done on it. Before inserting his other foot in my mouth he placed the toe of his tennis shoe under my chin and pushing upward lifted my face so that I was looking up, directly into his face. I heard him clear his throat. I knew almost instinctively what was going to happen. He formed a wad of saliva and phlegm with his tongue and spit it out, making it land on the bridge of my nose, right between my eyes. Keith took his foot off the back of my neck and I saw the sole of his dirty penny loafer coming toward my face. Slowly he placed his foot down on the slimy wad of spit and methodically smeared it all over my face, while Steve's foot still pushed my face skyward.

When Keith was finished smearing the spit he placed his penny loafer over my mouth and ordered me to lick the remaining stuff off the sole of his shoe. They all laughed at my complete obedience, and were happy with their service. Steve told Keith to stop, then said 'you can come to my pool party, as my new slave boi! you will fetch drinks for my guests, and lick my bare feet while i sunbathe with my girl. you will not speak to anyone without my permission, and you will be contstantly bowing down at my feet, you hear me slave?'

'Yes SIR'. I kissed master Steve's feet as a thank you for my new role in life, then got up and left them to plot what humiliating things they can do to me at the party.