Sissy Humiliated by Cheerleader!
I No Longer Remember Her Name
By Brian W. Fairbanks
I no longer remember her name. The fact is I never knew her
name, only that she was tall, slim, and beautiful. She was
unquestionably the sexiest cheerleader at Lincoln West
High School in Cleveland, Ohio. I noticed her, as did all
the guys, and I also noticed her boyfriend.
His name was Dan. He was big and muscular with wavy blonde
hair and a visage that communicated he was not to be fooled
with. He was more than all-man. He was the very definition
of masculinity. If he told you to do something, you did it,
no questions asked, no questions even considered. He didnt
have to make threats. His very presence was a threat. Just
the thought of him was intimidating.
Once, when he told me to give him a cigarette, I nervously
fumbled through my pockets to fetch one for him. I might
have offered an excuse to someone else (I just finished
my last one), but when this stud spoke, I was not only speechless
but afraid that I wouldnt give him what he wanted as promptly
as he may have wanted it. This was the voice of virility speaking.
This was a man who could make the worlds most sexually experienced
woman feel like a virgin again because, surely, no other
man was ever the man that he was. Other real men could feel
like sissies in his presence. Being anything but a real
man, my entire world was altered when he addressed me. I
was disoriented, incapable of anything but submission.
Once I handed him his cigarette, he lit it with the lighter
I meekly offered him, placed my lighter in his pocket and
walked away. I was relieved that the experience didnt
cost me anything more than a smoke and a ten dollar Zippo.
I would, of course, try my best to avoid him in the future.
His girlfriend, the superstar cheerleader, was also someone
I preferred to observe only from a distance. She was as much
a woman as he was a man, and, therefore, I didnt feel worthy
in her presence. As a world-class wimp who would blush just
thinking about talking to a girl, I knew I would never be
able to fill the masculine role that a woman would require
from a man. I avoided girls just as I avoided the truly masculine
boys who would reject me if I attempted friendship anyway.
But I particularly wanted to avoid this girl, just as I wanted
to avoid her stud boyfriend. She would see me as the wimp
I was, and wouldnt hesitate to treat me like one.
But fate decreed that our paths would cross, and they did
in the schools underground parking lot where there was
a door through which one could take a short cut into the building.
I was smoking a cigarette when she returned from lunch.
As she opened the door, she paused to look at me. There was
a smile on her face, but it wasnt a friendly one. Rather
it was a patronizing smile, the kind that often precedes
laughter. And laugh she did. With my curly red hair and somewhat
effeminate facial features, I probably looked like a fag
to her, and she obviously found fags amusing.
I was 18 at the time. I was a virgin and it looked like I would
be keeping my virginity forever. Still, I didnt think
I was a fag. Even though I masturbated, I considered myself
sexless, almost a eunuch.
She made her opinion of me explicitly clear a few days later.
I was walking home for lunch when a car full of girls stopped
in front of me. She was in the back seat, laughing as she joined
her companions in mocking me. Fag! they screamed. They
laughed uproariously and repeated the word twice more
- Fag! Fag! - before taking off, still laughing.
It was the realization of my worst fear. I lived in terror
of ridicule and humiliation, a fear that made me the timid
wallflower that I was. It was one thing for the boys to think
of me as unmanly, and in gym class they certainly did, but
for a girl to call me a fag seemed to seal my fate. And here
I was being ridiculed and humiliated by the schools star
cheerleader whose boyfriend was the star stud. What would
happen if I crossed paths with them when they were together?
It was the worst possible scenario.
Little more than a week later, the worst possible scenario
came to be. The stud and the cheerleader produced, wrote,
directed, starred, and cast me in the role of the sissy to
be humiliated for their amusement. Their power was absolute
and impenetrable. As a mere extra in their story, I had to
submit completely to their power.
The scene was once again the underground parking lot. I
was waiting by the door when they came through it. As soon
as the cheerleader saw me, she smiled that smug, patronizing
smile as she obviously remembered the way she and her girlfriends
called me a fag and I meekly accepted their ridicule without
comment. She grabbed the stud by the arm, whispered in his
ear, and he turned to look at me, wearing the same smug, patronizing
smile that a real man and a real woman naturally assume when
observing someone they have decided is a fairy.
The stud approached me, and as he did so his cheerleader
girlfriend smiled an amused, excited, and surprised smile.
She was clearly anticipating some fun. I, on the other hand,
was anxiously fearing further humiliation. As the stud
came closer, I instinctively cast my eyes downward, avoiding
his intimidating gaze. It was the last thing I should have
done. I was already admitting defeat, but I had no choice.
It was as if whatever self-control I had thoroughly disappeared
in their presence. I could only submit to them and my demeanor
let them know that I was powerless to protest.
My girlfriend tells me youre a fag, he said, smiling
and clearly enjoying my humiliation. I remained meekly
silent. Whatever words I might have considered uttering
were buried deep in my stomach, far beyond the reach of my
throat. The cheerleader giggled uncontrollably, and
said, Its obvious hes a fag. He wants to blow you.
Look at me, he said. Look me in the eyes and tell me youre
not a fag. my heart was pounding like never before as I obeyed
his command and looked him directly in the eyes. I was speechless.
Unable to defend myself, he took it for granted that his
girlfriends assessment was correct on both counts. I
was a fag, and I wanted to blow him.
The cheerleader clearly wanted me to blow him. Make him
suck you off, she said between giggles. I want to see
the fag suck your dick.
Come on, he said, and with a nod of his head directed me
to a dark area of the lot where his car was parked.
I didnt dare argue and I was too scared to run. I did as he
told me to, and as I followed him, the cheerleader followed
me, clearly excited as she laughed hysterically and said,
Wow! I cant believe this is happening.
He unlocked the door to the passenger side, sat down with
his legs outside the car, unzipped his pants and produced
a throbbing penis, a minimum of seven inches long with a
pronounced mushroom shaped head. I was standing before
him but not for long. He ordered me to my knees and I obeyed
as the cheerleader leaned against the open door and peered
down through the open window. I didnt know how to proceed,
but fearful of choking on such a thick, long penis, I started
by licking the head. Ooh, said the stud, that feels
good. For the first time, I was actually beginning to relax,
relieved that I wasnt disappointing him. In the meantime,
the cheerleader laughed uncontrollably. I never heard
so much laughter in my life, and there was no doubt she was
enjoying this even more than the stud who was also enjoying
the way he could so easily command me to debase myself for
his pleasure and hers.
I continued licking the head of his penis, but now the stud
was impatient, and so was the cheerleader. Suck him, faggot!
she said. Yeah, said the stud, suck me. I licked the
entire length of his shaft, then opened wide to take as much
of his penis in my mouth as possible. I held it just before
the opening of my throat, but then felt his strong hands
pushing my head all the way down on him, his penis now blocking
my air passage. I was scared, but I was also starting to enjoy
it. I moved my head up on his penis, and when I resumed breathing,
went to work on him like a slut. My mouth moved up and down,
up and down, sliding his penis in and out of my mouth while
he moaned with pleasure and the cheerleader watched, as
excited to see a fag at work as she was knowing the power she
and her boyfriend had over me. By now I was excited too. This
was meant to be, I thought. I'm a sissy and a faggot,
and I love it! At the same time I experienced this epiphany,
his penis exploded. My mouth filled with thick, lumpy cum.
It was trickling down my throat and some was trickling down
the studs penis. The cheerleader, more excited than ever,
interrupted the moment with the demand that I let her see
her boyfriends cum filling my mouth. I did as she ordered.
Swallow it, she commanded. In one gulp, I did as I was
told. Once the thick pool of cum was on its way to my stomach,
she repeated her earlier taunt right to my face. Fag!
I didnt deny it. I knew now that I couldnt. I wouldnt even
want to. The stud and the cheerleader knew me better than
I knew myself. They forced me to the truth. After licking
the stud clean, I, who was otherwise speechless in his presence,
finally found the courage to address him. Thank you, Sir,
I said. He laughed, put his clean penis back into his briefs,
zipped up, and laughed again as I remained in my proper place
before him: on my knees. Ill bet youd like some more,
wouldnt you, faggot? the cheerleader said. Yes, Mistress,
I said. She laughed again and, looking at the stud, said,
Wow, this is something Ill never forget.
Neither will I.
2003, Brian W. Fairbanks
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