SkinMarvin Gay Stories

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Epilogue

Nisbo couldn't stand it. Since Anthony had come into their lives a few short days ago, he couldn't get him out of his mind. He played over all the scenes again and again in his mind, and was getting harder and harder just thinking about how the young fresh-faced Mr Normal had been turned into a thug by Charlie and the rest of them. He loved it - and he'd loved jerking him off with the shaving foam the best of all.

"Charlie," he said, "I'm just goin up to check on the new boy, make sure he ain't sick."

"Good lad, Nisbo," said Charlie, "Make sure he gets a good night sleep when you're done with him," he chuckled. Charlie knew Nisbo and had seen him looking at Anthony.

Nisbo tried his best to creep into Anthony's room so as not to disturb him but Anthony had only been able to sleep fitfully and woke up to see Nisbo's boots staring at him. He instinctively cowered against the wall on the ground. "Relax, matey, I'm here to make sure you're OK."

"Why? What the fuck do you care?" Anthony's tone shocked Nisbo.

"Yeah, I know you'd think that, but I do mate, honest. You're stuck with us, and you'll get to like us in time. I'm already startin to like you." Nisbo joined Anthony on the mattress. "I think you look fuckin great as a skinhead, tell you what, you look fuckin miles better than you did three days ago."

"Don't be so fuckin stupid"

"See, your language is getting better too!" Nisbo laid his twenty-hole oxbloods on top of Anthony's black ones and inched a bit closer. "You got to admit you enjoyed it when I helped you out when I was shavin your head, remember?"

"That was a big mistake, Nisbo. I am not gay like you guys."

"You're getting there, Anthony," said Nisbo as he brushed his hand over Anthony's head. "Mmm, better not let Charlie catch you with that stubble mate." Anthony shuddered - once because having his head stroked by another man gave him a strange feeling and secondly because he was shocked to hear Nisbo address him as Anthony. What was that about, he wondered.

Nisbo pushed his knee between Anthony's bleachers, and rested his legs in that position. Getting closer and closer. Camo pants and bleachers. Boots on boots.

"I just want to get away from here, Nisbo, to be honest, and I've no chance against you boys. Charlie has me trapped."

Nisbo stopped rubbing Anthony's thigh with his knee. He wiped away the solitary tear on Anthony's cheek.

"It ain't happenin. You know too much about us. Just make the best of it, Anthony."

"You're different from the others. I don't know how, but you are." Anthony moved forward so their boots were touching. "Thanks anyway for your concern." Anthony didn't get any further because Nisbo planted a huge kiss on his lips, and held it there until Anthony opened his mouth.

"Yeah, you're not fuckin gay, my arse," laughed Nisbo when after a few seconds Anthony drew back. "That fuckin bulge in your bleachers is givin you away, mate." Anthony tried a smile. "I'm confused, Nisbo, since you jerked me off when you were shaving my head."

"Let it happen, Anthony."

"Yeah, maybe."

Nisbo began slowly. He stroked Anthony's stubbled head again for a bit. Then his face. "You mightn't think it mate, but those tats of yours fuckin turn me on like crazy." He kissed him, not soft like the first time, but devouring him with his tongue. He spat on his face, and licked it off again, he let the spit fall down Anthony's cheek onto his bomber and licked it off from there too. Anthony let him. He didn't know why but he let him. The bulge in the bleachers wasn't going away, and whatever Nisbo was doing to him, Anthony felt his tension melt somewhat which was such a relief to him after the last few days.

Nisbo lifted Anthony's Fred Perry and began to gently chew on his tits which were still tender from earlier. "Charlie will get these ringed, eventually." Nisbo took Anthony's hand and put them over his own ringed tits. "Go on, pull em." Nisbo groaned as Anthony did so, and to his surprise, Nisbo's groaning made him even more excited himself. Nisbo pulled the new boy closer and forced his head towards his armpits, which stank.

"Yuk," said Anthony. "That's a smell I won't get used to."

"Yeah you will, go on, get your tongue out and clean em," said Nisbo, almost in a whisper. Anthony didn't need to be asked twice, and again to his shock, the smell up-close got him turned on.

"I want to stop."

"Why? You're a natural, your cock's about to fuckin explode. Look." Anthony looked down and sure enough, precum, a load of it had seeped through his bleachers and the bulge was still as large as ever.

"I'm not sure. It seems I'm liking it when you make me do stuff and it's scaring the shit out of me....."

"Aha! A natural born sub, are we? Well, let's see..."

Nisbo grabbed Anthony again and forced him to lick out his armpits. Anthony's tongue lapped up the stink. When Nisbo was satisfied with that, he stood up over Anthony and told him to get off the mattress onto the bare floor but stay on his knees. Anthony looked up expectantly at Nisbo.

"Now, lick me boots nice and clean, Cuntboy."

"What?"

"You heard." Nisbo wasn't joking. Anthony of course had no idea that this was an activity that got a lot of gay skinheads excited. He'd soon learn why. "Do it."

He timidly put out his tongue and began to run it over the toecap of Nisbo's twenty-hole Rangers. Slowly but surely he got the knack, and realising to himself how humiliating this must look, and how much it excited him, he began to relax into his new bootlicking role. No sooner than he had relaxed his guard, he felt something warm on his head. Piss, Nisbo's piss.

"Don't stop lickin, Bootskin." Nisbo directed the flow of his piss onto his own boots so Anthony would have to taste the piss. It sent Anthony reaching for his cock and pulling it out of his bleachers.

"I want to shoot, Nisbo, I want to cum."

"Get on your knees and look up at me." Anthony adjusted his position and saw that Nisbo was stroking his dick too. "You'll only cum once I'm done. Now control it, Fucker."

All this authority stuff was turning Anthony wild. He didn't know why but he knew he liked it, no, he loved it. "Please let me cum, Nisbo, please."

"Beg for it. Tell me what you'll do for me, Fuckface."

"I'll do anything you want, Nisbo, just let me cum."

"Anything?"

"Yes, Nisbo, name it."

"I want you to stay here and make your mind up to be one of us. Look like us, dress like us, behave like us, smoke like us, drink like us, get fuckin inked like us, work like us, piss like us, shit like us....." Nisbo worked himself up into a frenzy and blew his load in big globs down Anthony's front, on his face, on his Perry, on his bleachers....."Aaaaaaaggggggggghhhhh"

"I'll do all that, Nisbo, I will, I fuckin promise, let me cum, let me cum, please, I beg you."

Smiling, Nisbo nodded his head. Two milliseconds later, Anthony was having the orgasm of his life.

He couldn't get up off his knees by himself. Nisbo helped him to the mattress, through the pools of piss. Nisbo joined him on the mattress, lying as close to him as possible.

"I knew you had it in you, Anthony, just wanted to prove me point. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy that."

Anthony smiled, a real smile. "I did, Nisbo, I did," he said, still breathless.

"Good lad," said Nisbo, satisfied. He gave Anthony a hug and lay for a few minutes beside the new boy, neither of them saying anything. Anthony's mind was racing. From cop to skinhead in a few days, and now he was a faggot.

Nisbo broke the silence. "You seem all distant, Anthony. Having regrets about what we just did, mate?" A short pause, followed by a huge grin.

"Fuckin stop callin me Anthony. Me name's Buster," said Buster, "and fuckin pass me those ciggies."

THE END (Thank Gawd, I hear you cry.....)

Thank you all for your patience with me, mates. And thanks to the lads who e-mailed me too offering help and advice. Much much appreciated.

Cheers for now.

Am off to recover.

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