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.
