In Store

I thought he was cool, but he said “Free 99.” #Frotteurism #Anonymous

I just thought it was great to hang out with a teenager, but one of my friends corrected him.

“It’s THree, not Free 99.”

“Oh no.” Markus laughed, “Don’t you get it?” He reached into his pocket, “I buy something for a dollar, so you can grab whatever you want, while he’s distracted at the counter.” He pulled out a dollar bill, and unwadded it to show us, so we decided to try it.

Of course, they told us about Peer Pressure every year, but this wasn’t some 6th grader, he was a teenager, in high school, and he wanted to hang out with us? So, we did it, and the man behind the counter.

Mr. Herakaldis ran the corner store, and sold groceries, mostly. But also, in addition to milk, eggs, and bread, he had candy, soda, and chips, too. He was Greek, but I didn’t make the connection with Markus until years later, when I got to High School, and I saw him pick Markus up.

He got out, and went around the other side of the car, so Markus could get in and drive off, because he was a senior, and I was a freshman, but then it all came back. I felt betrayed, and then choked up on a lump in my throat, so I ran off before I started crying right there, in front of everyone.

He caught me, of course. Mr. Herakaldis, he kept an eye on me whenever I went in there with my family, but then they thought nothing of me waiting out in the car, while they went in to grab something for dinner. I didn’t say anything, because I was ashamed, and I wanted to forget the whole thing, but then seeing them together.

It was obvious that Markus was Markus Herakaldis. Father, and son, so I bet his dad told him to approach me, invite me into the store, and say he’d distract him while I swiped a candy bar. So, he could come around the counter, and grab me by the shoulder. The rest of the boys got away, and later said they didn’t even know that I was caught until they got to the alley to show off their loot.

Meanwhile, Mr. Herakaldis locked the door, and turned the Closed sign over, holding my arm tight before he dragged me off to the office. He asked me if I’d rather he called the cops, or my parents, threatening me with the phone, and demanding to know their number, so he could call it.

Then, he hung up, and went around behind me. He said “Well, if you can’t decide,” he started rubbing my shoulder with one hand, and unzipped his pants with the other. “I guess I can let you go, but you’ll have to do something for me.”

Then, he let go, so I could look over my shoulder, and see his schwantz hanging out, right in my face. “Uh!” I turned away, but then he walked around, picking it up, and stroking it. I told him I’m not gay, but he said “It’s okay, you don’t have to be.” Then, he started going on, and on about this old Greek tradition, from Crete about a well to do man taking in a poor disadvantaged boy, and the man was called a Philator.

I remember that, because he said that’s where the word Philatio came from, but I didn’t care whether it was gay or not. I had a choice between doing that, telling my family about it, when he called them to pick me up for shoplifting, and trying to convince them that it was the truth. Instead of me accusing him to get out of trouble for shoplifting, but I finally gave in. Opened my mouth, and let his stick it in, instead of just waving it in.

“That’s right,” he patted my head, “Now suck it.” It swelled, and hardened, but i spit it out, and asked him not to cum in my mouth.”

“Okay,” he wiped my spit, up and down with his fingers, “That’s enough, but you ever had a blow-job before? Who knows, you might even enjoy it, if you relax, and just let it happen.” but he really just wanted to get my pants down, so he could grab my tush, with my dick in his mouth, but I didn’t get hard. Not even a little, I just wanted it to be over, but he stuck his tongue out to lick my balls up, and suck them too.

Then, he spit them out, and told me about. Intercurial? I think that’s the word, but he didn’t spell it. I thought that he just wanted to sodomize me, but he insisted that was just a myth. A misunderstanding, the Greeks didn’t buttfuck, they just held it between the boy’s legs, but if you looked at it wrong, you might think that it was anal, just because of how the boy was bent over on the side of a pot.

I didn’t want to bend over, so he picked me up, and stuck it under my crotch. He told me to squeeze it, tight, and then he put my arms up around his neck, so he could grab my butt again, and start fucking between my legs. He laughed, and made a joke about not having such a big one between my legs, for a few more years, but then he started telling me what a beautiful boy I was, and yeah.

I know, I heard pretty boy often enough. The other guys made fun of me for it, but even the school girls started to notice, in elementary school. They just looked at me, and told their friends I was the cutest boy in school, but i didn’t want to be the cutest boy in school, I sure didn’t like looking like a girl, and being made fun of for it, but now, it made this dirty old man want to fuck me between the legs, and finally, he finished.

He set me down, and pulled his pants up, but his jizz was running down the backs of my legs, and I didn’t want to squeeze them together. So, he handed me a box of cloths, which was weird, because they were like a box of tissues, but they were blue, and cloth. I didn’t care, i just wanted to wipe the mess up so I could get my pants back on, and leave, but he left me to finish cleaning up.

Then, when I got out of the office, he joked. “You didn’t steal anything while you’re in there.’ i shook my head, and muttered something about learning my lesson, but I didn’t even want to look up at him.

“Here,” he handed me a flat envelope shaped bag. Like those envelopes they use at school for whole pages without folding them, with the red circle, and the string to wrap around them? Yeah, that big, but he just rolled up the top, so I stuck it under my arm, and took it home. Trying not to cry again, but I wiped my tears on the weird box cloth, and blew my nose before I left.

I threw them under the bed, and went to take a shower. Then I went to bed, and tried to think of what i was going to do until I fell asleep, but all I could come up with was staying away from him. Of course, I thought about warning my friends, that he was a child molester at least. No matter how legal it is in Greece, this isn’t Crete.

Then, I thought about calling the cops, and sending him to jail, but I never got the guts to actually do it. I dialed 9, and 1 once, then I chickened out, and tried to think of something else I could do, but all I could decide was to do nothing.

Now I’m going to call the cops. Now that I know he’s got his son to help him, that means they can keep pulling this “Free 99” trick over and over again, on any unsuspecting boy he likes to look at. The sick fuck, it makes me want to puke, but first I had to stop by the boys room, and throw up. Before I wrote down what I know, I hope they’ll do something, and I won’t have to come in to testify, but if I do. I still have those dirty magazines he gave me, and I bet they’ve got his finger prints all over them, too.

I tried to look at them, but they just reminded me of him, and what he did to get them from him, and I still don’t even want to think about it, but maybe they can use that to get him on contributing to the deliquency of a minor, because I’m only 13, and I was 10 when he did it, but I sure hope it doesn’t come to that.

Well, maybe just an anonymous phone call will do the trick, I don’t know, but there’s only one way to find out. Somebody has to do something, and nobody else is doing anything, so I guess it’s up to me…

;

Author

I consider that rape. Legal, and personal definitions aside, no woman gets humped by a Frotteurist on a train, and then thinks “At least he wasn’t a piquerist!”

The psychological damage is the same, with or without penetration, regardless of whether the victim, or the abuser is male, or female, whatever excuses either may make. There’s no difference between rape, and “Just frotteurism.” Or just intercrural, without penetration. (Also, he did force it into his mouth, which is oral rape as well.) It’s not gay, it’s rape. Homosexuality is sex, not rape.

It’s all the same results.

🔞 Candy.AI 🔥 AI Sex Chat - Roleplay, Erotic Stories, Try for Free 🕹️

Please, Rate This Story:

(average: 3.86 out of 7 votes)