Busters New Boy by Dreck Skin.

Buster couldn’t help noticing the young lad n’ mostly because of the boots, you just didn’t see them on the streets any more in these days of trainers (or sneakers, depending on where you’re from), Rockport shoes and the like. The brightness of the yellow stitching gave away that the Doc Martens the young lad had on were still relatively new. You couldn’t see how high they were because they were hidden by the charcoal grey trousers of the lad’s school uniform. He looked about 16 years old, maybe 17, about 5 feet 5 inches tall, sporting a reasonably short haircut by today’s standards (a grown-out crewcut affair by the looks of things), and the most striking thing of all, blood streaming from his nose.

David was embarrassed to see the big skinhead coming towards him. He was embarrassed that he didn’t hold his own against the twins, and was only hoping that the big skinhead hadn’t seen him get the hiding from the two tormentors who had sped off not two or three minutes earlier in the opposite direction. David forced a nod in Buster’s direction. As the latter came closer, David could see he looked pretty fearsome. Tattoos everywhere and a big ring through his nose suggested that this skinhead was also someone not to be messed with & he doubted that the twins would have even thought about taking this guy on. David instinctively backed towards the entrance of the nearby shop doorway, he knew however that there were people around he could shout to for help, not that any of them came running when he was being set upon a few minutes earlier by the Barnes-Forbes Twins.

The Barnes-Forbes Twins unofficially ran the sixth form. It was known that they ran a mini-protection racket, dealt drugs and alcohol to their mates (what few they had) and that it was best to give in to their demands, no matter what. Various attempts by concerned parents had been undertaken to get the two delinquents removed from the sixth form college but a variety of factors had been more influential in the opposite direction & the school itself had a good reputation for academic excellence and didn’t want to attract bad publicity, the boy’s grades were good (little did the staff suspect that most of the work they handed in wasn’t theirs) but most of all their father, Reverend Peter Barnes-Forbes, was on the School Board. James and Rupert Barnes-Forbes were there to stay and got away with pretty much everything they wanted to get away with…

• Busters New Boy by: Dreck Skin
   

Truck 26102 by Billy Nakasaki.

The light blue Freightliner Classic XL is flying down Interstate 40 across the forests of North Carolina. Its twin chrome stacks shine in the afternoon sun. She is numbered Truck 26102 a brand new 1998 model with a 70 inch high roof sleeper. Her Detroit Diesel engine purrs as the Skinhead behind her wheel smoothly operates her with the precision of a surgeon. His arms bulge, and sweat lightly covers his muscular body. His hard looking face is pieced (septum and bridge), as is his ears. He has plugs on both sides and five rings on his left ear, one ring on the right ear. His left arm is sleeved, while his knuckles are tat-ed with “SKIN” on the right and “HEAD” on the left. His upper right arm is tat-ed with the words, “Blue Collar for Life”. The back of his skull is tat-ed with his CB handle, “Skin Hauler”, which his skinhead brothers gave him.

I first met Skin Hauler fifteen days earlier at Fontana, Terminal in California. He’s one hell of a trucker, skinhead, and a sexy fuckin’ bastard. At 6’2”, 246 lbs (all muscle), blond hair (eyebrows and arm pits only), deep blue eyes, and 9 inch uncut cock. I light two cigarettes and hand one to Skin Hauler. He slaps the shaved side my head hard, so I bite his arm. The rig sways a little, but Skin Hauler has it under control. We both laugh, continue to smoke, and call each other names. Fag, queer, slut, homo, white trash, nip, honky, slant eyed bastard, red neck, nig’ga, skin, punk, jock, rich kid, pig fucker, Chink, Irish potato fucker, Spic, Cowboy, Injun, whore, asshole, bastard, shit head, mother fucker, it just goes on and on, until Tyler slaps me across the head again. I slap his bald head and notice that his bleached tight Wrangler can barely contain his growing bulge…

• Truck 26102 by: Billy Nakasaki

Scally Fuck by Dave Evans.

I was in a club a few weeks ago in Manchester near where I live and they had a really banging night on with some top hardhouse DJ’s playing. Because it’s within walking distance from where i live, it’s an easy place to get to and on a good night, you can have a really good time there. In fact, it’s The Music Box on Oxford Road and I did my first pill in there in 1995! As I say, if you have a good night on and it’s busy, it can be really good and because it’s a straight club, you always get a decent scattering of really nice eye candy from Salford, Moss Side, Colyhurst and the likes and the door team keep it really friendly.

There is an obvious drugs policy but you can still get really off your face as many of them do and I got to say, I’ve bin part of it over the years too! This particular night, I got some mates together and got tickets and stuff to hear some of our favourite DJ’s and people were coming from all over to go there so I knew it was gonna be big. I got together some nice stuff to wear, I shaved my hair down special that night, cleaned up my black Rockies, got a nice white T-shirt and some black Rockport jeans - I like em cos they’re quite tight across my crotch and having a fat, 9 inch cock, they show it off quite nicely if you get a quick flash from under my shirt! I hate that Kalvin Clein stuff so put on my favourite long white silky footy shorts under my jeans which are quite a turn-on. I sprayed myself liberally with a bit of Burberry and headed off out….

• Scally Fuck by: Dave Evans
   

Big Rig Punk by Billy Nakasaki.

It’s a sunny spring day in Chino, California as I put the last of my gear into my Honda Civic. I give my mom, one last hug and pull out of the driveway. My old man stayed in the house. He’s pissed that I’m heading out and thinks what I’m about to do is stupid, dangerous, and low class. I waved good-bye as I head out and turn the corner; a feeling of great sadness threatens to break away to the surface but I hold it back, cau’z hard fuckin’ core punks don’t cry. I open the window to let the fresh cool morning air in. For once it isn’t filled with smog or the smell of millions of people that call the L.A. Metroplex home.

The midnight blue Civic flies down the freeways at redline to the terminal in Fontana. It’s my first day on the road and I don’t want to be late. The guard at the gate tells me to store my gear in the drivers’ lounge and put the Rice Rocket in the 4-wheeler storage lot. After throwing my gear down, I park the racer under some trees and start to cover her under the custom car cover. I pat her gently and kiss her since I won’t see her again for at least two months.

When I get back to the main terminal I, head to Driver-Check-In and find out that my trainer hasn’t arrived, yet. So, I’m told to wait in the drivers’ lounge. By now there are several drivers (Truckers) in the lounge watching T.V., talking, or playing cards. When I open the door and walk in the room literally stops. I’m 6′3″ (actually 5″8″) with a green Mohawk, brown eyes, studded leather jacket with spikes a blue shelve and a green shelve, Oxblood GripFast Boots, green torn cammo shorts with patches of Rancid, the Business, Oxymoron, Dropkick Murphys, plaid ass flap, and a bid sneer on my face. Most of the drivers are stunned, except one short dude who’s sizing me up. I lock eyes with him and the staring contest begins. He blinks first, but gets the first word…

• Big Rig Punk by: Billy Nakasaki
   

Working Away from Home by Mark.

Jon and Greg were asked to move some furniture by an 0ld man mate of Greg’s dad Sam. Jon and Greg were cousins and were asked to pick up the furniture and drop it off at another house. Jon picked up Greg in a van and drove the 6 or so miles. They were both in skinhead gear, Jon in his black 14 hole dms and Greg in his cherry 22 hole dms with his blue footie socks over the top, his bleachers worn bare in places.

They talked dirty all the way Jon kept rubbing Greg’s crotch.

When they arrived at Sam’s house, the old man invited them in, and took them up to a bedroom and showed them a small wardrobe and dressing table to be delivered. The old man was in his 70s but was very pervy and kept joking about their boots, jeans and bulges…

• Working Away from Home by: Mark
   

Skinhead Slave by Ted Gay.

I was walking home from a rockabilly gig and noticed a gang of teenage skinheads hanging around a street corner. I was feeling kind of horny as there’d been some very cute rockabilly kids at the gig, but of course they were all unavailable. Or at least, if they were available, they weren’t going to admit it in that setting, amongst their straight mates. I’d been standing behind one particularly fuckable rockabilly aged about 18, and had a raging hard-on all thru the gig, staring at his very lickable neck with a tattoo of a Rebel Flag and the legend ‘Rockabilly Rebel’. It was all I could do to stop myself pressing up against his tight little bubble butt, and taking a vampire-like bite out of his neck.

So in this sexed up state, I guess I looked at some of these attractive teenage skinheads a little too long. As I turned the corner, I heard footsteps behind, and realized the gang were following me. I quickened my pace, but my heart sank as I heard:

‘Oi there, queerboy! Wotcha lookin’ at?’…

• Skinhead Slave by: Ted Gay
   

Ambushed by Mark.

Nathan, Ben, Amir and Li were skinhead mates. They had grown up through school and had become skinheads from an early age. They all worse either 20 or 30 hole boots, DMs or rangers, although they also liked wearing waders too, and did sometimes when at home together. They wore football socks, bleachers, t shirts, braces and green bomber jackets. As gay mates they had all had sex together, and loved having perverted sex, alone, in twos, groups and with anything that had a hole or a dick on it.

Ali was a good looking Pakistani skin and was popular with other skins, Li was Chinese and a favourite of other skins, as well as more the mature men. Nathan and Ben originated from London.

At school they had been a force to reckon with and had given loads of lads their first taste of cock, now 20/21 they loved horny and perverted men, and were a commodity to be used by others if given the opportunity…

• Ambushed! by: Mark