Hazed by a Redneck, Part I: The Taking

For as long as he could remember, Cody had been the skinny kid.
“Cute, but too skinny,” the hot bitches at his high school always said when they talked about him behind his back.
It was bad enough that the hot chicks wouldn’t date him. But to make matters worse, his mom wouldn’t let him play contact sports – she always said that he’d break something.

He wondered how he was supposed to get any bigger if he had to avoid the kind of stuff that could put meat on his bones.

The worst thing about high school, though, was the population of dumb hicks who went there with him. It seemed like a day couldn’t go by where some asshole didn’t stuff him in a locker or put him in a headlock and wipe some sort of bodily fluid on his face.

As a rule, Cody tried to keep his head low. But his striking good looks (despite the skinniness) and short temper usually made that difficult. He certainly never instigated the trouble, but he wasn’t about to sit there with his mouth shut while he was humiliated day in and day out.

Recently, two of the nastier hicks had started calling him “pussy.”

It pissed Cody off to no end – he was no coward, and certainly not a pussy by any definition.

The offenders’ names were Nate and Bobby. Nate was a varsity offensive lineman on the high school’s mediocre football team. Despite his bullying attitude, the popular girls loved him – he’d supposedly slept with twenty-two drunk co-eds in his junior year alone.

Cody didn't know what they saw in the guy. Sure, he was good-looking and had the body of a fitness model. But this jock was a real jackass who walked around slapping underclassmen in the backs of their heads and rubbing his commando crotch against unsuspecting teammates like he was some kind of dog in heat. He was known for wearing gym shorts (and no underwear) to class, and getting a hardon just to see who'd look.

Ego personified.

Nate was the asshole who typically instigated the name calling and ass slapping. That was because Nate's best friend, Bobby, was usually too stoned at any given point of the day to know what was going on.

Bobby, unlike Nate, wasn't one of the most popular guys in school.

Because of his bad attitude and inability to be a team player, Bobby had been kicked off the football team at the end of his Freshman year. And at a high school like Cody's, playing football was your only ticket to get to fuck the A-List girls.

But Bobby was lucky. Even though he wasn't the most popular guy in school, nobody messed with him. He didn't have to put up with the same kind of shit that Cody did every day.

That was because Bobby was a true redneck, in the most basic sense of the word.

He lived for only three things - to smoke pot, to get laid, and to torment the other kids at school. He drove a Ford F-150 that was adorned with oversized tires and a sticker of a naked whore holding a rebel flag.

The truck was almost always covered with mud, a true sign of redneck bliss, in Cody's opinion.

Unlike Nate, Bobby wasn't clean cut. He had shaggy hair and usually wore John Deere ballcaps and worn-out Levi's crowned with some kind of offensive belt buckle.

The "taking" all went down on Friday afternoon, on a "bye" week for the football team. With two days free from practice, the varsity players were restless and full of hormonal energy. Consequently, they'd been tormenting the underclassmen since Monday.

Cody had kept his head low all week, and breathed a sigh of relief when the bell rung, signaling the end of his last horrid class and a weekend free of assholes.

He was so happy that the weekend was here that he practically skipped down the hallway toward the bus that would take him home.

It wasn't until he was outside that they caught him.

In the midst of the masses streaming toward the busses, Cody didn't see them until it was too late.

Suddenly, a tanned, meaty arm wrapped itself around Cody's delicate neck in a mock headlock.

"Hey little buddy," Nate grinned with brewing cockiness. "I missed you this week. Why 'you been avoidin' me?" Nate squeezed Cody's nipple while the warm sweat from his white tee soiled his shoulder. Cody cringed with pain, and Nate winked at him.

"I, uh, what are you talking about?" Cody whispered, stifling his anger.

"What?" Bobby snarled, his bloodshot eyes hidden by his camoflague hat. "Don't play dumb, pussy. You know you' been hidin' from us." He spat a wad of tobacco on Cody's white tennis shoe.

A bolt of rage shot through Cody's quivering body, and he pulled away. "Fuck you, you dumb hicks!"

Before Cody turned towards the bus, Nate grabbed him by the arm and twisted it behind his back. "Not so fast, faggot. You're coming with us."

Locked into submission, Cody had no choice but to be dragged behind the row of bushes that led to the parking lot, and to Bobby's monster truck.

To be continued . . .