Locker Roonm Trauma
Okay, the last one was a little rushed, so I'm sorry. This will be my second, so try to enjoy! ?
Locker Room Trauma
It all started when I announced myself as a "queer." Ever since then, I've been harassed, abused, even beaten up. School of tolerance my furry blue ass. Are people really that intimidated by me? Or is it a dominance thing? Either way, ever since that day, I've always felt a twinge of pain bellow my tail when I sit down.
Well, if you read my bio... what? I didn't get a bio? Damn... oh well, more time for me to shine, right? I'm Kat. Pretty girly name, huh? I was supposed to be a girl, my parents never really wanted a boy, but they got three, with me right smack in the middle. You can imagine how much they appreciate their gay son. Not much, let me tell you. See, they just happen to be borderline alcoholics. Maybe that's the reason they beat me. Feeling bad for me yet? Ha, sorry, I'll get back to, well, me.
I'm an otter, and a pretty cute one at that. Not to flatter myself or anything -wink!-. I already told you I was blue, right? Yeah, way to draw attention to myself, right? It was a stupid idea, a dumb choice I made in 8th grade. That was sort of around the time I came out of the closet. But yeah, I dyed my fur blue, and I think it looks good.
I'm fifteen, and halfway through my freshman year. My grades are fine, so at least I have that going for me. Other than the occasional bullying, my life was pretty swell, right? Wrong. People were scheming against me, and little did I know, my ass was on the line. Literally.
As the title infers, this all started in the locker room. I had just finished another grueling day of physical-ed and my blue fur was slicked with sweat. When the whistle blew, I began to make my way towards the showers. Others walked a little faster, and seeing their bulges bounce was enough to give me a bit of a hard-on. I entered the changing rooms with my hands covering my small crotch, afraid to get undressed and shower with this little bastard between my legs. I sat on the bench in the farthest corner from the jocks, trying not to be noticed and start a series of awkward moments.
You probably guessed this, but the jocks hate me. A lot. They treat queers like dirt. Well, worse than dirt. They don't beat dirt up. At the time, they were over on their side of the locker room, getting naked and groping each other playfully (which wasn't helping my boner to cool off, ill have you know!). as fate would have it, the team captain happened to glance my way, and barked an order, shutting the others up like they were Helen Keller. They were all looking now, some snickering, others just laughing. The captain motioned with his equine tail, and they began to make their way closer, pushing aside other kids, kicking aside clothes.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" said the captain, grinning one of those creepy wolf grins. I was at a loss for words, when all of a sudden, SLAM! I was kicked right in my otter nuts, hard enough to break a few of the fingers covering then. I gasped, and then doubled over with pain. He then tore off my shorts, the others chuckling hysterically to see the hardened form of my sheath poking out of my jockstrap. I tasted blood in my mouth, and my jaw was bruised to bad I could barely move it. I stutter out something guttural, but it came out sounding completely incomprehensible.
"Oh, cat got your tongue?" the jocks were just grinning now. "See, we've been planning this for a while. What better way to teach your fag ass a lesson then to fuck it?" with that, he hooked a claw into my jockstrap and ripped the whole thing off, exposing my sheath to the air. The red tip of my cock was poking out, a sharp contrast against the light blue of my fur.
Then two of his testosterone fuelled minions picked me up, turning me around and leaning me roughly against the bench. My ass was in the air, and I yelped when the captain grabbed a hold of it. I tried to struggle away, but he dug his claws into my furry rump, causing me to scream through my probably-broken jaw.
By now the whole locker room was empty, furries fleeing, afraid of the wrath of the jocks.
"Now," said the captain, the fun begins!
All eight of his muscular friends whipped of their remaining clothes, exposing enormous erections. If I could have guessed at the size, I would have said the smallest one was eight inches. One by one they grabbed hold of their penises, their furry hands wrapping around their exposed wolf cocks.
The last one to expose themselves was the captain, bit by bit, he slid his clothes to the floor, until a ten inch shaft was hovering over my butt. By now the whole team was panting, the locker room getting how with steam from their musky breath.
"You deserv this," he said, pushing all ten inches into my virgin ass.
To describe it to you would have brought the nightmare back. Let's just say it felt like I was being torn in two and burned from the inside. I must have blacked out, because when the pain had faded he had already begun thrusting up into me. The whole team was jerking their growing erections, some already swollen with blood.
No one said a word as the captain worked himself to a climax, orgasmming into my burning rectum. One by one the other wolves shot their 110 degree semen into my face. Burning streets of cum blurred my vision.
Before long, I was the only one in the room. I picked myself up, squeezing jizz from my stretched hole. I wiped of my face, my broken fingers and jaw forgotten. Because there was one thing the jocks didn't expect;
I enjoyed it.
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