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- 02/06/2022
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Timothy - 95. Chapter 95
Rich sent over some of the comments that the editor decided not to publish. Stephen and I sat on the sofa with a cup of coffee and started to read these comments. “Look at this word, vilest.”
“Whoever wrote this comment used that word frequently.” ‘The vilest piece of shit that ever walked this earth was Bruce Stevens. He was so vile he smelled like a pile of shit that stank worse than cow manure, and in fact, cow manure would smell like roses next to him.’
“I wonder if that was someone in his class when he was in high school ?”
“Here’s one that is signed.” ‘He raped a girl one night because he thought it was me. If he had raped me, my boyfriend would have killed him. He raped a lot of girls. Everyone knew he would go after a girl until she would give in, or he would drug her. His death is the greatest news for every one he took advantage of their innocents. I knew some of the girls, and they would tell me what he did. He was rough and forced himself on them. He told them to shut up when they cried, and they got what they wanted. His last words to them were, be on call. I knew he was being sued, and the DA had an arrest warrant for him. I’m sorry that those he had wronged did not get a chance to face him in court’. "This comment is signed by Mary Jo. Scanning these comments, this is the only one that has a name.”
“She must have been the one that Bruce stalked that night Ann Marie was raped. Her husband, Carlo, was a big man, and he had threatened Bruce.”
“Why didn’t the paper publish this story?”
“I don’t know. Are there any more with a name?”
“There is this one.” ‘Bruce Stevens was a great basketball player. He led the high school team to a State trophy which has never happened since. So he was a womanizer. None of the girls he supposedly had sexual relations with brought it to the attention of the faculty.’ “Charles Blithem, Basketball coach, signed this. There is a comment referencing this comment.” ‘Coach Blithem knew what was going on because I told him. He laughed and said, as long as I wasn’t pregnant, I should enjoy the fact that I had the opportunity to have someone like Bruce take my virginity. Coach Blithem was and is just as guilty as Bruce. He is more guilty because he could have stopped it and just maybe prevented the rape of a young woman. Bruce Stevens deserves to go to hell, and so does Blithem. I hope they both burn in hell’,
“What else?”
“There is a lot that uses very strong language, and I’m sure that is one of the reasons the paper didn’t publish them.”
“Did you see the one comment about gays?”
“You mean this one?” ‘Bruce Stevens not only raped the girls, but he also raped boys. I was one of those boys who looked up to Bruce. He was a star, and people seemed to like him. He had a group of boys around him all the time. Many of us looked at him as a model. He was good-looking, smart, an all-star basketball player, a school hero. He would let me carry his books and his lunch tray. I felt important. 0ne night after a rough basketball game, which we had won at the last moment when he shot a three-pointer. He asked if I would give him a rub down. I told him I didn’t know-how. He said he would teach me, and then I could give him a rubdown after every game. He asked me to go home with him. I went thinking I was going to help my hero. When we arrived at his home, we went to his bedroom. He undressed and asked me to undressed as well. He was going to take a shower and wanted me to wash his back and massage his shoulders. Naive me, I also undressed. I followed him to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature. He entered the shower telling me to get behind him. He gave me a liquid soap and a cloth, telling me to add the soap to the wet cloth and massage the back of his shoulders. I did that. He said it felt good. Then he asked me to wash his back, which I did. Next was his legs, and when I was stooping down washing the back of his legs, he turned around, and his cock was at my mouth level. I was going to get up. He put his hands on my shoulders, preventing me from standing up. He shoved his cock at my mouth. I didn’t open my mouth; I didn’t want that in my mouth. He pinched my tits, and when I yelled, he shoved his cock into my mouth. Looking at me, he smiled and told me to suck it, or he would tell everyone on the basketball team I liked to suck cock. So I did it, and when he pulled out, I threw up. From that day on, whenever he said for me to take him home, it was a repeat. I’m glad that bastard is dead, and if he is buried here, I’ll piss on his grave every day.’”
“Yes, one more reads similarly, but that lad must have been younger. It’s at the end of that page.”
“This must be it.” ‘I was a junior when Bruce Stevens was a senior. I was a member of the basketball team. I didn’t play often, but I worked out with the first string. The coach said we would be on the first team next year. And the juniors would be the second string as we are now. I think everyone on the second string wanted to be like Bruce Stevens. I later found out that Bruce Stevens was despicable as a human being off the courts. I was as tall as Bruce, and the coach said I needed to practice if I wanted to be on the first string next year. He asked Bruce to help me. After class, we would shoot hoops. When we were finished, we would take a shower. Bruce always took a shower head next to me. When we were soaping up, it seemed that his soap always slipped and fell in front of me. He would ask me to get it for him; he would rub his cock in my ass crack when I bent over. His comment was I wanted to see where my soap went.
One day we worked out in prepping for a critical game. The coach asked me to gather the equipment and take it to our locker room. When I was finished, everyone was finished showing and getting dressed. I put my dirty uniform in the dirty hamper. Taking a towel, I headed to the showers. Bruce was the only one there. Bruce was at one end, so I took the other end. I started to shower, and I bent over to wash my feet and legs when I felt something being shoved into my ass. A hand came across my mouth, he whispered in my ear, take it, or you won’t be playing basketball next year. From that time on, I was one of the first to shower. If I die and go to hell, I’m going to look him up and shove a hot poker up his ass. He was the most despicable human being, and if he hadn’t committed suicide, I’d kill him the first chance I had. Rah, Rah. the wicked bastard is dead.’ “I don’t understand how he was able to carry on like this without someone telling the faculty.”
“My guess he had enough information on these people to threaten them if they did go after him.”
“He was a despicable man.”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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