A Walk To School

The following story has themes of misogyny, non-consent sex, humiliation abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story not meant as any sort of political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality.

*

I tell myself that I'm not being silly or cowardly as I hide behind this large oak tree. Slowly I poke my head from beneath it to look down the sidewalk and street. I'm but a block from my house, hiding behind a tree that's next to the sidewalk.

Empty of people. Good. No bullies today. Any day without them is a good day. And lately they have been making my life miserable. So I'm able to start walking.

My name is Ava and I am 18 years old. I walk to school everyday as it's not that far away. I say school, but it's really college, but since it's so close and the fact it's a private college makes me feel that it's just an extension of high school.

And for the past few months, there have been 3 girls that have made my life hell. They live in this neighborhood and if I happen to be walking any time close to them, they will mess with me. I don't really know them except they are the same age as me as they graduated in the same class.

At first it wasn't that bad. They just called me names from across the street as I walked to school. Then they would do it from behind me as I walked. Next they started to follow me home once they saw me in the neighborhood, making fun of me all the way to my house.

But then they started to get physical. Throwing things at me. It was just trash and paper at first, but then small rocks and sticks. Then they would stop me to dump dirt over me or down my clothes. Next came the tripping as they would hide behind a tree or bush and stick their foot out. Or they would slap whatever I had in my hands to the ground. Once they even dumped out my backpack in the middle of the street.

I know why they bully me, not that it changes anything. It's because, well, I sort of have one noticeable attribute. Something that I've tried to hide for the past 6 years; my boobs. They started to grow when I was 12 and just seem to keep growing. Only...the rest of me didn't get the same notice. They didn't grow as fast as my boobs did and it, well, left me looking super busty.

And oh how I hate this. I've always hated having large boobs. They get in the way of everything. They knock things over. They hit people, they just get in the way.

Due to their size, I've learned to cover them the best that I can. I know tons of other girls might love this but I hate it. Others would flaunt this and shove them in everyone's face, but I'm not like that. I'm a good girl. A girl with almost a perfect 4.0. A girl that has a letter of recommendation from every single teacher her senior year.

By covering I mean I wear a lot of baggie t-shirts and hoodies. Anything that makes them not seem so, well, big. Even jackets work when it's not to hot. I've sort of become a master at it too. You have to or else people don't take you seriously, or at least that's my opinion.

It works too. No one asks me out or even stares at my chest when they meet me. Well, I know a part of not getting asked out is because I don't dress like the normal girl most of the time. It's normally a baggy top and blue jeans for me, and my hair tied back. Oh, and my black glasses.

I sometimes wish I would get asked out, but I know it's for the best. Right now I need to focus on school. Do good in school, get a great job, get money and be happy. That's my goals.

Now you may ask how did those bitch girls learn about my top heavy-ness? Well, one day I was stupid and wore a somewhat lot cut top that I purchased. I was feeling sexy and wanted to see what it would be like to flaunt my chest just one time. That just happened to be the day that I ran into them, literally while walking to school. That's all it took for them to start making my life hell.

I should have never worn that stupid top, but, I dunno, of late I've been getting into more...interesting stuff romantically. Well, not romantically but sexually. Like there's a dark itch I need to be scratched and I'm trying to figure out how to do it. It started when I went to look on a BDSM subreddit one day and sort of fell into a rabbit hole of tons of kinks that I didn't know existed but I liked. There was consensual-nonconsent, punishment, spanking, humiliation, oh how the list went on. But I didn't spend a lot of time looking because if I am being honest, it scared me that I liked such stuff.

"Hello, Eva," a man's voice says, scaring me. The voice is calm and friendly, it's just I wasn't expecting it at all. I jerk and spin towards the voice in reaction so fast that I wasn't aware I could do it. As I turn, I put my back against the tree.

Standing behind me is an older man. My guess is he is in his late 50s or early 60s. He stands there, looking cool and calm as ever. I didn't even hear him walk towards me, but I think maybe because he's from the house I'm in front of. That he must have walked on the grass and was quiet.

"H-Hello," I reply back, confused. He said my name yet I have no clue who he is. I've never seen him before in my life either. He's dressed well enough so I know he's not a homeless or anything. My guess is that he is a neighborhood dad and not a kidnapper.

"I'm Mr. Eric, I live here," the man says, motioning to the house behind him. I take a quick look at the house, and much like him, it's just a normal looking house. The yard is kept up, the place looks clean and just blends in with the neighborhood vibe.

"Do...Do I know you?" I finally ask as politely as I can, getting the courage to do so. This may sound strange, but there's something about this guy that seems odd. Something about him that sort of scares me, but I don't know what. He's not leering at me or anything, nor does he seem aggressive.

"I know you Eva. In fact, I've seen you countless times as you walk," he reveals. He then smiles at me, but it's the sort of smile where it doesn't reach the eyes. It only serves to make my skin crawl.

"I take it you are on the look out for Sarah, Kate and Marie?" He asks. When he asks this, my mouth drops open. Those are the names of my neighborhood bullies. How would he know their names? Could he be related to one of them?

"Don't look surprised. I told you, I know you. I know you extremely well in fact," he says and smiles wider. Cool and calm he steps towards me but not in a threatening manner, yet it is still threatening. Since my back is already to the tree, I can't go anywhere.

"I've seen what they do to you. Often I laugh at it as well. My favorite so far is when they put a stick down the back of your pants and yelled for you to take the stick out of your ass. It was stupid and childish, but pretty funny," he reveals, making my face burn red as he chuckles remembering it. That happened over a month ago. How long has he been watching?

"I had been thinking about it, and considered it was time we should meet," he tells me, taking another step so he is but feet away.

"W-What do you w-want?" I stammer out, feeling extremely scared for some silly reason. The guy is bigger and taller than me, but I think I could fight him off if it came to it. At least I think. But again, he's intimidating but not physically. Nor does he seem to be aggressive yet I am scared. There's something really fucking creepy about him.

"What do I want?" He muses as if thinking the question over. He then looks me right in the eye and smiles. Again, that smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"I guess you might say I want what Sarah, Kate and Marie want. Much like them, and many others that bully you I might guess, I can see why they take an interest in you. I can see the real you and I very much like what I see," he tells me, making me feel more than creeped out now as this is clearly about sex.

"I...I'm not looking for a boyfriend," I say as it is the only thing I can think up. The moment I say this, the man starts to laugh. It's a loud, booming laugh showing he really finds this funny. It's so loud I'm sure everyone outside can hear it. It's very crude too, making me feel like garbage. It's so bad it makes my face flush.

"Oh I could never have a girlfriend as pathetic and cowardly as you are," he says when he finally stops laughing. At this I react almost as if he hit me. Excuse me? What did he just call me? What did he say?

"Don't even try to act like it isn't true," he says sternly. His expression changes as well and I find myself getting more and more concerned. He's found a raw nerve with me, and I don't like it one bit.

"When anyone messes with you, you just give up and let them do as they want. You never fire back with insults when they call you names, you don't defend yourself when they assault you. You barely even move when they shove dirt down your clothes! So let's not play any stupid or silly games with you pretending to be some strong person. You're a coward. You are a grown adult who on the inside is nothing stupid and cowardly," he states while looking me right in my eyes.

Never has anyone said something so mean, so cruel to me. It hits me right in the gut like a pro boxer taking a free punch. It's so stunning that I can't do or say anything at all. I can only look into those deep dark eyes of his as they stare me down, daring me to try and protest what he said.

"That is unless...you like what they are doing to you. That you like that sort of attention. That abuse. That humiliation," he muses to himself with a knowing smile. This accusation hits even harder than being called a coward. How dare he! How dare he think that I'm that sort of sicko that would get off on it!

"Which is it then? You a freak sicko pervert getting off on it? Or a cowardly lil thing that is too scared to fight back?" He then asks, but I can tell he doesn't want an answer. What he wants is to see me squirm, which I am very much doing with my red face and eyes that can't look at him.

A part of me wants to break down crying as he's right. I've always said that I let people bully me because I'm cowardly. That when I get scared, I sort of become a coward. I've told myself that I'm a passivist and that's why I don't fight or protect myself. That it is better to let the evil see they are being evil than to be evil yourself. But I will admit, there are times when I like it. Like the first time they yanked my shirt over my head to expose my bra. It was horrible and humiliating, but a part of me, a dark part, liked it. No, loved it.

"Show me your tits," He then says in a very causal way, but it cuts through my thoughts. The way he says it, it's not a demand or an order. More like he's telling me to do something that I want to do, or should I say that HE thinks I want to do.

"Excuse me, WHAT?" I ask, shocked and appalled. At my reply he rolls his eyes and then shakes his head as if I'm being the insane one. He acts as if sexually harassing women on the sidewalk is a common task, one not out of the ordinary at all and I'm acting like a brat.

"We both know you are going to do it. You are too cowardly not to. So lift up your shirt and bra, and show me those massive tits we both know you have...unless...you want to make me angry," he calmly explains until the end. At the end part he talks slower and sternly, as if getting upset.

"No! Fuck you, you old asshole. You are a fucking pervert and I am going to call the cops on you. I hope when they arrest you, you get ass-raped by some big ugly, smelly fucker you creepy asshole," is what I want to say. It's what I see myself saying in my head. What comes out is completely different.

"D-Do I have to?" I ask in a soft and scared voice after about 30 seconds of silence. Something about him, how scary he is and how he seems to be able to read me scares the hell out of me. He seems to know darker parts of me. It's like he's a demon or something sent to torture just me. I've never been more scared of a person as I am now, and my family got robbed at gunpoint once.

"Yes. Do it now," he answers in a stern, father-like tone. When I hear this, my vision gets a faded, static feel at the edges. This isn't real, right? He's not really doing this to me, correct? It's just a dream or rather a nightmare.

Against my will, I bring my hands to my backpack straps. Slowly I remove one arm from the strap and then the other as I look around. My eyes dart about, trying to find the hero that will save me. But there's no cops here. Not even a teacher. There's no one about at all but the two of us and some birds.

I set my full backpack on the ground now, feeling lightheaded. My heart has started to pound and my breathing has picked up a great deal. Next my hands move to the bottom of my shirt. As my fingers grab the helm of the shirt, I tell myself not to do it. To run, to scream, to kick this asshole in the balls. Instead my hands lift upward, showing my bare stomach.

My fingers then find my bra, my special-ordered customed bra. My fingers inch under the bra cups which takes some doing as this bra fits perfectly. With a frown and wave of humiliation, I jerk upward, yanking my bra and shirt towards my face.

My overly large breasts bounce free of my bra. They heavily drop and bounce for what seems like forever as the man watches. Time seems to slow as I feel each and every jiggle of my boobs as they come out. I just stand there, holding my bra and shirt up so that my bare breasts are completely exposed to this stranger.

"See...I told you, you would do it," He tells me, as if I was being stupid for putting up a fuss. I don't respond to this. I just stand as I am, my vision getting fuzzier as I feel the breeze on my bare tits. That breeze causes my nipples to harden as they have never felt such a sensation.

"I see this is why they bully you," he states as he looks at my breasts. Him looking at them makes me feel so judged. Makes me feel so pathetic, like my self-worth is from him, not from myself. It makes me feel downright owned. Makes it feel that doing this isn't crazy, but what I should be doing.

"I would say they are just jealous of how huge they are, but I know how pathetic you can be, so I can't really say that's the answer," the man says, his comment cutting into me, especially as I stand showing my tits in public like this. It feels like being physically hit again. It even makes me sway.

"Now, be a good girl and say 'everyone can see my big fat titties' right now," he says, looking me right in the eye. By now I feel the color has drained from my face. If something worse could happen, I don't know what it could be. It's bad enough he is getting to see them, and worse that it is in public. But now he really wants to stick it to me and humiliate me worse than anyone ever has.

For a moment I don't think I can say it. It's all too much. Only I feel that dark tingle within me, bursting forward. It forces me to admit that on some level I love this, and want more. Even if it is only like 3% of me that does.

"E-E-E-E-E-Everyone....Everyone can see my b-b-big f-f-fat t-t-titties," I stammer though while looking directly at him. To this he smiles and I finally am able to look him in the eyes. In a weird way, his approval feels good. It makes the butterflies in my stomach move and between my legs tingle.

"Alright. Now, turn and walk straight into my backyard," he says, pointing at a gate to the right of his house. Once again I feel the color drain out of me as I don't believe this. Go into his backyard? No. I can't. If I do, I'll be raped and murdered for sure. This guy is utterly crazy. I can't go there. I can't.

Only my feet start to move, but instead of down the sidewalk or across the street, they turn to face his house. I'm in such shock that I'm doing this, I let go of my shirt and bra so they fall, thus covering my chest again. My feet just seemed to move on their own. Like that dark part of me took over for that one moment.

Am I really doing this? Why? Am I truly this submissive or cowardly? Am I that sick of a perv?

"Damn it. Just can't fucking listen, can you? I didn't say for you to lower your shirt you dumb fucking bitch. Now, just for that, pull your fucking pants and panties to your feet, NOW!" the old man angrily barks. He says it with such a rage it generally scares the hell out of me.

My hands are on the button of my jeans before I know I've done it. This time they move not because I want to do it, but because of real fear. The way he yelled he is truly pissed. Like he wouldn't mind hurting me sort of pissed.

I look him in the eyes again as I open my jeans once they are unbuttoned. Then...feeling more cowardly than I thought possible, I yank my jeans and panties down, all the way. I don't stop until they are bunched at my ankles, my bare ass and womanhood fully exposed to the world. Then, pouting, I lift my shirt and bra again in front of him, showing him everything.

"Good. You aren't that stupid you can follow orders. Now get to the backyard," he says and points again, his tone still sounding upset. He barely even glances downward at my shaved womanhood. It's almost like he doesn't care as this is just punishment.

Without saying anything, I turn and face the fence. With my shirt and bra lifted and my jeans and panties at my ankles, I begin to walk. The feeling of this makes me go into a daze again as my pants prevent me from taking big steps. My steps are small, little steps which make my breasts jiggle comically. I have to walk across his front yard like this, everyone able to see...everything.

"How about you tell everyone that could be watching how only dumb cowardly bitches are made to show their fat titties and cunt?" he suggests from behind me.

Could there be someone watching this? If so, they called the cops, right? They can see I'm being kidnapped, right? Surely that's what they would do. If someone is seeing this, they wouldn't think that I want this, right? Oh, I hope so. I pray so. But in my mind I picture what I would do if I was at home looking out a window and watching this. I wouldn't call the police. Instead, I would pull out my cell and record it, as it's too extra to believe happened. I would let the woman fall victim to the guy.

"Only d-d-dumb and cowardly bitches have to show their fat t-t-titties and c-cunt," I say out loud, my face reddening as I do. I say this as I know that no one is going to save me. No one is going to call the police. That I have to do what he says if I want to get out of this.

He makes me repeat the phrase, and by the time I finish, I am in front of his backyard gate, which he opens. Without question I go inside and he closes the gate behind me. Turning to look behind, I see he didn't come in. That he's walking away.

I'm alone. He left and walked off. Confused I look around at this backyard. It's much like any backyard with a wooden fence, a few trees, a picnic table and water hose. I thought maybe it would be a murder-rape-workshop but no. It looks like any middle-class backyard.

I wait with my shirt and bra still lifted and my pants and panties around my ankles as I'm not sure what to do. After about a minute, he comes from his the back door of his house into the backyard. The moment he does, I curse myself. Why the fuck did I wait? I should have run off! I could have turned and ran out the gate! And why did I keep holding my shirt and bra up? Like an idiot I stood in one place, holding them up to make sure my body was exposed...and why? What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Come on, stand in front of the camera," he says as he sets up a fancy looking camera on a tripod. I stare at the camera, getting dizzy for a moment. Oh no. This can't be real. Letting him see my bits is one thing, even letting the neighborhood see is ok, but a camera? No. That's life-altering. That's internet and scandal and ruined life known as a whore type stuff.