The Bully

[Jack of Blades]

Long time lurker, have a few big stories eternally in progress, but I thought I'd write a short story or two. This is a little experiment as my first story.

Jason.

That was his name. The one guy who had made my school life hell. Two things that you needed to know about Jason. First, he was 6'7 and at least 250 if not 300lbs of rock hard muscle, and second, he had a cruel streak about a mile wide. Oh, and his favorite target was me.

Not that I was the only one. During sports day last year, he'd fractured a guy's wrist when playing rugby against another school. It was one of his own team members. Another time, he'd broken a guy's nose for sitting in Jason's seat at lunchtime. Even the teachers were utterly terrified of him, and his family's wealth made sure they couldn't get rid of him. But above all his targets, I was his favorite.

I'm sorry, I really should introduce myself. I'm Mike. 5'6, 100lbs soaking wet and a brainiac to boot. Not surprising that I was a target for the biggest bully around, I practically had a bullseye painted on my back from birth. I'd been bullied at primary school, and my parents had paid good money to put me in a good private school, rather than go to a comprehensive. Even so, it just put me in line to get hit by richer bullies. By the time I was 16, and coming onto 17 at the end of the year, I was the least popular kid in my school, and had collected several bullies besides Jason, but compared to Jason, they were friends. As to actual friends, I didn't have any. I'd long given up on the idea that anyone liked me. My belief in Life was as follows:
1. I am weak. And powerless. Never fight back.
2. No one wants to talk to me, and if they do, it's because they want to harm me in some way.
3. There is no way to avoid the inevitable. If a fight is approaching, don't run, just let it happen.
4. NEVER tell ANYONE about what happens. Ever.
And 5. Everyone hates me.

As you can understand, these self imposed rules got me into a lot of trouble. Rarely a day went by when I didn't go home covered in bruises. But of course, I'd never tell my parents. It was always "Oh, I fell down." "I tripped when putting my PE kit on" "I hit my head on the door when it opened" and so on. Admittedly, as the end of school began to get closer, there started to emerge a feeling I hadn't had in years. Hope. Finally with school over, I would be free! I would be able to live my life free of Jason and his infernal cronies. It became harder to believe in that hope, however, as the bullying only got worse as the year progressed.

Then came the day where it all came to a head.


I'd started the day as usual. In a mood of complete fear and dread. I was used to the feelings by now. The churning of fear in the pit of my stomach had kept me from eating breakfast for the last two years, and it was no different today. I was driven to school by my dad on his way to work, and as I got out, I could hear Jason yelling somewhere on campus. Someone else's turn to recieve his wrath. For now at least. I walked to the main door into school, passed the reception desk silently and walked down the main corridor. People silently moved to avoid me as I walked down the corridor. I was a nerd, a brainiac. and on top of it all, there were rumours that I was gay. People were terrified of me. If I was gay, might they catch it next?

It was when I was passing the men's bathroom that a huge hand reached out and dragged me in. Jason ignored the fact he had hold of my collar until he got past the stalls, where there was an area I knew as the room of pain.

"Morning, weakling. Didn't think that your best buddy Jason would miss out saying hello, did you?" At this point, all my emotions shut down completely. It was automatic. "DID YOU?!" He slammed me against the cracked tiles and crumbling concrete, knocking the wind from me

"No Jason" I intoned dully. He hit me square in the stomach, winding me.
"NO JASON WHAT?!"
"No jason, sir" I rasped with what little breath I had.
"Better. Now where's your life fee? Don't want me to crush you with THESE!" at this he flexed his massive biceps, that rose higher and higher, thicker and thicker, bigger than my head.
"No Jason, sir." I handed over my wallet, which he emptied into his huge paws, before shoving the money into his skintight jeans.
"Not good enough. Get that bitch of a cunt that you call a mum to give you more next time" He suddenly grabbed me by my collar again, and growled in my face "And don't forget!" He threw me down the end of the room, howling with laughter as I crumpled to the floor at the other end with a thud and a sigh. He walked out of the bathroom, pausing to kick me in the arse before going. Another average school day then.

The first two lessons proceeded without interruption. It came to breaktime and I headed out to the quad. I sat down in my usual spot, watching the world go by and waiting for, ah, yes. Here it was. The ominous shadow crossing me. There were snickers from behind me. He'd brought the whole gang too. How kind.

"Hey there, gayboy. How's the weakest bitch in the school going, huh?" Jason plopped himself down next to me. The bench groaned ominously. "You fuck any pussy last night? Oh, no. Course not. No girl would go near you, gay fuck. You like boys too much to notice" Oh, he was a clever one for insults, that Jason. His cronies giggled. He put his massive arm across my shoulders, and grabbed onto my arm. "Hey, once I've finished with the five gils I got coming over tonight, I'll see if one of them'd come over and teach you what a REAL man feels like." At this he yanked on my arm. There was a pop. My whole right side exploded with pain. He'd dislocated my arm. Again. Third time this month. And probably going to...yep. Another flash of searing white pain, and the arm was back in its socket. Just hurting a lot more than before. He tapped me hard on the shoulder he'd just ruined, each tap making me flinch. had learned long ago that it was best not to make any noise. I could scream myself to sleep tonight as usual.
"Anyway, buddy, can't stay around you too long. The gayness might rub off or something. See you at lunch!" With that he stalked off. I just sat, silently.

The next class was one of my favorites. Physics. Everything made a lot more sense in physics. I liked all the sciences, but physics was my particular favorite. Helped that the teacher was nice. I even sometimes spoke in my physics lessons. But, unfortunately, it was only an hour's respite. An hour that far too quickly ended. The bell rang, and everyone packed up their things and headed for lunch. I packed my things with great reluctance, and finally got up to leave, but the teacher stopped me.

"Michael, wait a moment, please." I stopped dead.
"Now we both know you're a very bright lad, and I really think you could go far in the class, but I'd really like you to engage a bit more in the class. You're practically my star pupil, but you never even speak!"
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir" The teacher sighed.
"You don't have to apologise. It's not your fault that you're shy. I was at your age. I just don't want to see you getting lost in the crowd, when you're clearly such a bright boy."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He sighed again.
"Ok, you can go to lunch. See you on Friday." I wouldn't, as it turned out, but hey.

I waled out of the classroom, and within two steps, was surrounded by Jason's cronies. He was leading us all down the corridor. We were heading to the Gym. Coach let him have use of the gym and changing rooms at lunch. Most probably just because he was too scared to say no. We practically marched into the changing rooms, where Jason picked me up and put me on one of the pegs to dangle. I could probably get myself off, but I knew better than to run.
The guys all changed, Jason getting into his under armour wrestling kit, which showed off his titanic chest, massive traps and huge arms off perfectly. His quads were so thick, they took the shorts almost to breaking point.
"OK boys, let's have some fun with little Mikey here!" Jason thumped over to me and took me off the hook, holdng me as far up as he could reach, before dropping me on the ground. I landed well, considering. At least I didn't break another toe. He kicked me hard. "Come on, little pussy, get up and get going! You're gonna learn how real men wrestle! You v me first!"
At this point, I'd like to point out that I was probably insane. Or possibly, I just wasn't thinking. Nevertheless, I heard a voice say "No" and realised to my horror that it was mine.

Jason went bright red and gave of a deep rumbling howl. "NO ONE SAYS NO TO ME! AAAARRRGGGHHH!" At this he hurled himself at me, punching, kicking, stomping, thrashing. He was a mindless destructive machine, beating me harder and harder, harder than ever before. Even his mates were recoiling away from him, scared by his ferocity. The only noise I made was the occasional crunch of joints, the thud of my body or the crack of bones. Jason picked me up and threw me against the wall. Then grabbed me and kicked me in the ribs. There was another crack. He hoisted me up against the wall, and held me there with his hamlike forearm and screamed into my face "NEVER SAY NO TO ME YOU FUCKING CUNT GAY BITCH!!!"

It is an interesting and popular fact that when one is suffocating, and the body begins to shut itself down ready for death, a number of things happen involuntarily. One of these is that you get a boner. Indeed, there is a whole strangling subulture in the BDSM society, focussing on just this trait.

Needless to say, as I desperately gasped for air, I popped a boner. Jason saw. He screamed "YOU FUCKING GAY FREAK!!" and tore my trousers and pants off me, took my hard dick in his hand and crushed it. Blood spurted acoss his rippling torso and my torn shirt as bits of cock, blood and semen dribbled out from his iron hard grip. He didn't let go, even when his friends, disgusted by his actions pleaded him to stop. Finally, letting go of my ruined dick, with a bellow of rage, he threw me to the ground and kicked my head hard. Finally, unconsciousness took me. I thought I was going to die. I hoped I would.



And so here I am. In hospital. Just recovered from a month long coma. My head injuries are finally healing after extensive surgery. The coach found me at the end of lunch and I was rushed to hospital. I had three serious head injuries, my legs were broken, twice in the right and three times in the left. My left arm was dislocated and my right arm broken in the forearm. Two of my fingers of my right hand had been so badly crushed that they were forced to amputate. 7 ribs had been broken, with two puctures to my left lung. They had to replace it. Fortunately, there was a suitable lung available. My stomach was ruptured, one of my kidneys was severely damaged, and then there was my cock. Or rather, there wasn't. They amputated the torn remains of that straight away.
For three months after getting out of the coma, I didn't speak at all. I had been diagnosed with a number of sever stress related mental illnesses, and had been receiving treatment, with limited success, to try and get me talking again. I knew all the bones would heal, and if anything, the new lung was even healthier than the old one.
My parents were with me all the time. My mum had practically taken over the entire ward. My dad split his time between visiting me, where he would go on and on about how he was so sorry for failing me and not protecting me, work and his solicitors. He was suing the school, as well as Jason's family. I remember hearing them there when I was in my coma. They were there for me. At last.

About two weeks ago, I managed to speak. I don't know how, but I did. I just said "Mum". She was there within the second. I hugged her, she hugged me, gently, and I began to cry. I cried, and I cried and I cried. And she just stayed with me, and cried herself. All night. Finally, with me able to speak, I've been able to make a lot of progress with my carers. I'm able to talk and I've even managed to laugh once or twice. My dad got me his selection of comedy tapes from god knows when. The 60s I think. I loved them, and listened to them for hours. And started to laugh more. And talk more.

The doctors say that I should be OK for going home in a few days, though I'll still be having daily visits from Sally the nurse and Fiona the care worker. I'm having lessons in remembering how to feel. It's hard, but I'm getting there.

Jason? He's in juvey. In the mental ward. Heavily sedated from what I hear. "Severe anger issues". Fiona told me that he's having specialist treatment. Said something about having bad parent relationship. I think she was hinting at sexual abuse. As if that justifies this. But he's in the loony bin. And the students from school have been sending cards and flowers. Even had a few from Jason's cronies. I tore those up.

So yeah. Even though I'm crippled for the next couple of years, I only have 8 fingers and I have to pee through a tube just below my bellybutton, I am getting better. Finally, my life is starting to look bright.







Epilogue

It was a dark night. Jason was walking back from the gym. He was huge, as always. He was humming to himself. He had no fears of the dark. White was a different matter, of course. White clothes. White pills. White neon lights. White sheets. White forms and checklists. they haunted his dreams, as did the faces. The dazed, confused, lost and happy in a world so separate from this one. He liked the dark. He could hide in the shadows, away from the white in his mind.
He turned down a dark alley that he used as a short cut to get to his run down flat. One day he'd make it big with one of these rich muscle worshiping guys. Hah. Maybe they'd even fall in love with him. Still wouldn't be his dream boy though.

There was a shifting in the alleyway, and suddenly Jason found himself falling forwards, with what had to be the most excruciating pain he'd ever felt lancing across his huge calves. He screamed. It felt like cramp, except turned all the way up to eleven. He desperately tried to stretch his feet out, stop the pain, but all his feet could do was flop around. The shadows formed into a quick moving figure. Two more swift movements, and the cramp to end all cramp hit his biceps. His forearms sprang back so fast, the elbows crunched as they fractured. He screamed again. He looked at his arm. There was a cut, bleeding. and his bicep. His hard trained, beautifully huge bicep, bigger than it had ever been before. With no tendon holding it to his forearm. His tricep had sprung back, no bi balancing the arm, dragging the forearm with it. He was immobile. Face flat on the floor.
"Ah, fuck, what's going on?!" he howled between clenched teeth. He saw the boots of his assailant in front of him and looked up as the figure crouched down. "Ah! Who, fuck! Who are you?! Why are you doing this to me?!"
A quiet, calm voice said "Now now, Jason. You know what happens if you squeal like a little gay pussy."
The words echoed in his head. He'd said it so many times. So many times to one person.
"No. Fuck, no. Please god, no!"
"Pleading won't help you. Doesn't help anyone. Just shows how weak you are, Jason." A three fingered hand wrapped round a scalpel came down and tapped him gently on the forehead.
"I guess little Jason needs a lesson in pain." So saying, the figure bent down and drew the blade closer and closer to Jason's eyes. It stopped.
"You know what, if I do that, I really would be as bad as you. Maybe I should let you go."
"Yes, oh god, please, yes! I beg you, please, just let me live!"
"Oh, I wouldn't kill you. Heavens no. I'd want you to make sure you suffered fully and properly."
"Oh, god, oh god, oh god! Please! Don't do this! I'm in enough pain!"
"I've never got an erection since the day you took that away from me, Jason. I've never got hard for a girl, or boy. I'll never have the pleasure you have. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't make you suffer more."
"Oh, god, Mike, Oh god, please. I'm sorry, I'm so so so sorry!" Jason began to cry. Weep, his whole, crippled body shaking with the tears, fearfilled tears.
"I very much doubt you are. You're a cruel manipulative bastard. You use everyone around you for your own selfish, muscle obsessed dreams."
"You don't know my dreams. You don't know the White. You don't know the love I have. My love for you...oh..." Jason was shocked. Mike was speechless. the silence finally was broken.
"So, you really were gay? the stuff about your parents, about you being raped, was true?" Jason nodded, biting his lip. "And yet, despite loving me you did what you did to me? What kind of a freak are you?!"
"That's the only thing I knew. Hate. I hated you. Like my dad hated me. You never saw my bruises."
There was a long pause.
"Ah, fuck. Fuck, Jason, Fucking hell! Why'd you have to say that?! Another one of your lies?! Trying to manipulate me still, huh?!"
Jason winced, though not from physical pain "No, god, no. Please, Mike. Please don't kill me and let me show you that I mean it!" He began to cry again. "I need you! You're the one! You're the one who can save me from the White, please! Please, God, Mike, Help me stay away from it!"
Another long pause, studded by Jason's weeping.
"God damn it." Mike stabbed a syringe into Jason's arm. Jason felt the pain recede, and then his vsion went black. "Let's get you to a hospital and see what we can do to make everything better. For both of us."

The End.

[msman]

Hmmm. Very interesting way of telling a story, I would love to see what else you could do with this. Although the whole bloody violence thing isn't really my thing I think it's what makes this story special. It is the right balance of psyco and intrigue. Well that's just my opinion.