Note: Okay so in this chapter there is some good and some bad. So hopefully the little good makes up for the bad way Stiles gets treated. Like I said before there will probably be 5 chps to this story.
Also, I finally was able to join Ao3! I'm starting to post my Control Me story on there. I did add a tiny bit to chapter one if your interested in checking it out my name on ao3 is Lislmf123
Enjoy and Review!
One by one the boys left the gym dressed in their proper uniform heading outside to walk track or play one of the many sports activities available to them.
There were only a few stranglers left behind finishing up on getting changed into their uniform to meet the rest of the class outdoors, Stiles being one of them.
He worked on opening his locker and taking his gym clothes out as his friend Scott who was already dressed, waited for him.
"Don't worry about me Scott; you don't want to lose your chance to join in on playing basketball. I'll meet you outside." Stiles voiced as he took his marvel shirt off placing it on the bench before moving his hands down to his pants starting to unzip them.
"Okay, I'll see you out there man." Scott replied, making his way out the door as Stiles slide his jeans off and replaced them with his shorts.
He quickly stuffed his clothes into his locker before shutting and locking it up.
Stiles pulled his white shirt over his head and started for the exit.
He was just a few feet away from the door when Derek came out of nowhere, blocking the exit with a stern look on his face.
Before Stiles could react Derek grabbed the front of his shirt, bringing him closer.
"I saw Danny looking at me funny today in Biology and a couple other students giving me a curious look around campus. I swear to god if you said something about the other day, I'll kick your ass." He warned, letting his hot breath fan across Stiles face, sending a shiver down his spine.
"I didn't say anything about you or yesterday, I swear."
"Good, it better stay that way Stilinski. Last thing I need is people thinking I'm a fucking fag like you." He responded before letting go of the teen's now wrinkled shirt.
Stiles frowned looking down at the crinkled mess, and brought his hands to his chest, trying to smooth it out when Derek suddenly moved behind the teen without him realizing it and pushed him into the bathroom area.
Derek pressed Stiles stomach up against a nearby sink and pulled the teen's shorts and underwear down to his knees in one yank.
Derek smirks enjoying the view of Stiles round ass, sliding a hand into his shorts and squeezing his cock, feeling it swell up in his hand.
He palmed himself a couple times until he was hard as a rock and then removed his hand from his gym shorts.
Stiles was full anxiety watching Derek form behind him in the mirror, not sure what to expect. His heart was pounding in his chest, his palms were sweaty and his breathing picked up.
He gasped in surprise and gripped the sink for support under the added weight when Derek moved forward, pressing his clothed hardness up against his crack.
"You think about me when you stroke your needy cock in bed, don't you?" Derek voiced huskily in his ear.
Stiles didn't answer, still trying to process what was currently happening and the fact he felt a jerk down below. He didn't want to admit it but a part of him was excited. Derek was hot after all and everyone in school pretty much lusted after Derek. He could have his picked of anyone and he chose Stiles to get off on. Sure he was a dick, but he was a hot dick.
Derek continued rubbing the tip of his clothed dick against Stiles needy crack.
"Answer me." He voiced roughly, grabbing the back of the teen's hair, yanking on the ends.
"Owe! Not so rough." Stiles whined, rubbing the back of his scalp as soon as Derek released the stressed locks.
"Don't lie, you know you like it rough." Derek said harshly against his ear as he thrusted forward letting Stiles get a better feel of his hardness.
Against his will, Stiles moaned and quickly blushed embarrassed as Derek laughed bitterly against his neck.
"Oh my god, you do, don't you? You little freak." He said, thrusting against him again as Stiles panted.
"Tell me fag, tell me you like it rough. I want to hear you say it." He demanded.
"I like it rough." Stiles mumbled, feeling humiliated.
Derek stepped back and gave his ass a firm slap.
Stiles whimpered under the force.
"Louder!" Derek ordered.
"I like it rough!"
"Good boy." he praised, giving the teen another hard slap causing his eyes to became teary.
"You like being put in your place, don't you?"
"Yes" Stiles sobbed.
Derek slapped him on the cheek again and again and again alternating sides, receiving whimpers and sobs in returns.
"You think you can cum this way?" Derek asked curious. Admiring the pink hand imprint left on the teen's ass.
"Please, please stop." Stiles cried, leaning against the sink for support.
His ass felt like it was on fire.
"Jesus, are you crying? What a wimp." Derek mocked.
"You want me to touch you, don't you fag?"
"Please." He begged in protest, just wanting the pain and humiliation to be over.
"Say it!" Derek snapped, hitting his sore ass again.
Stiles broke down.
"I (sob) want you (sob) to (sob) touch me." He struggled to say.
"I know you do, you're such a slut. I bet you open your ass up to anybody with a cock." Derek voiced, as he started to dry humping Stiles ass roughly, one, two, three thrusts, not caring whether the teen got off.
He removed his short just as he was about to reach his peak and tugged on his cock a few times before he was cumming all over Stiles ass.
Stiles hissed as the warm cum hit his sore ass, making it sting.
"See you later fag!" Derek called out as he walked off leaving Stiles in the bathroom area somewhat aroused, yet achy with water streaks going down his cheeks and cum glaze all over his now bright pink ass.
Stiles whimpered in the shower feeling dirty and sensitive as he washed himself off. He refused to jerk off this time. He had been truly degraded and used.
He took his seat next to Scott at the lunch table wincing in pain.
"What's with you?" Scott asked.
"Nothing, I fell hard on the ground earlier and I'm just really sensitive right now." Stiles lied.
"Did you get a bruise?" His friend asked as he took a bite of his food.
"Probably, feels like it."
Scott busted out laughing.
"Dude, I got to see."
"No, and it's not funny. Why is me getting hurt so damn thrilling? It's sick, that's what it is, sick!" Stiles snapped getting up from his table leaving Scott behind, feeling confused and a little startled.
"What did I say?"
After school was over, Stiles made his way into the convenience store that was just across the street from campus.
The bells on the door chimed as he entered the store with his backbag over his shoulder and a pained look covered on his face, cringing ever time the fabric of his underwear and pants rubbed up against his flesh.
The teen browsed the store until he found the aisle for home care, grabbing a bottle of lotion for his sore rear-end.
He then headed up front to the cashier to pay.
Stiles looked out the big, tinted windows of the store, eying the school property that sat across the street as the cashier rung him up. Students were still in the processes of leaving the school grounds.
Some kids were standing around chitchatting, others were walking home in groups and some even had rides pull up to pick them up before peeling down the street.
"Your total is 3.80" The cashier said flatly.
Stiles took his eyes away from the window and reached into his bag taking out four bucks.
"Here you go." He said handing the money over.
His eyes suddenly caught sight of Derek coming across the street in his navy blue and white school shirt, kaki cargo shorts and a backwards baseball cap on, with his gang in tow.
He started to freak out. Dealing with Derek was bad enough but dealing with a whole gang of jocks was another thing.
There was a time Stiles actually fantasized about the jock fucking him while wearing his backwards baseball cap on.
He even fantasized about the senior asking him prom too but he was starting to realize that was just what they were, fantasizes, that weren't real and would never come true.
Stiles took his jacket out of his bookbag and slipped it on, putting the hoodie up over his head to camouflage himself as best he could as he left the store with his bag of lotion in hand, looking down towards the ground as he quickly walked pass the gang of jocks.
Luckily, the group was too busy talking about sports to care to notice the teen as he passed by.
Just when Stiles thought he was in the clear, a block down the road, a black car pulled up next to him. He glanced over to find Derek in the driver's seat sporting his backwards cap and a smirk on his lips.
"Stilinski, get in!" Derek voiced, as he moved the car at turtle speed, driving alongside Stiles, who was walking on the nearby side walk.
"Fuck you!" The teen spat out.
"Get in the car NOW, Stiles." Derek warned, going off road, parking his car in the grass a little bit ahead of where Stiles was walking.
Against better judgement Stiles walked over to the passenger door, getting inside.
"We're do you live?" Derek asked, as he steered the car back onto the road.
The teen's eyes widen in fear.
"Relax, I'm not going to Rob you or egg your house." Derek said, rolling his eyes.
Stiles told him the address and Derek pulled up to the familiar house.
The teen let out a relieved breath just glad Derek hadn't left him out in the woods somewhere and got out mumbling a thank you before shutting the door.
He was half way to his front door when he heard another car door being shut and looked behind him and find Derek walking up to the front porch with him.
"What are you doing?" He asked alarmed.
"Relax and open the door."
Stiles did as told and cautiously let Derek inside.
The senior looked around, scanning his surroundings as he went, "Nice place, where's your bedroom?"
"Upstairs."
Derek grabbed the plastic bag from Stiles and headed up.
"Hey, hey!" Stiles shouted, going slowly after him, wincing as he moved up the steps.
He walked into his room to find Derek already there, waiting for him.
"Take your pants off and lay face down on the bed."
"What, no." Stiles replied scared.
"Stilinski quite being a baby and do it."
Stiles followed through, discarding his pants and underwear and laid stomach down into the mattress.
Derek came over to the bed, sitting on the edge and took the lotion out of the bag, unscrewing the top before applying a good amount to Stiles left and right cheek. The teen hissed on contact for a moment as Derek gently rubbed in the cream on his fragile flesh.
"There, good as new." Derek voiced, before standing back up and placing the lotion on Stiles dresser.
"Why did you do that?"
Derek shrugged like it was nothing.
"I caused it, figured I ought to help you out."
"You have lube?" Derek suddenly asked and began to open drawers to Stiles dresser in search.
"Why, why do you wanna know?" The teen asked defensively.
"Stiles." Derek warned, giving him a stern look over his shoulder.
"Top drawer, on the right."
Derek lightened up after that and opened the drawer, digging the small bottle out of its hiding place, squirting some on his finger.
Stiles eyed him curiously and then tensed up when Derek came back over to the bed.
"Have you ever had a finger in you before?"
No answer.
"Stiles?"
"I try it once or twice."
"You wanna feel it again?"
Derek didn't wait for an answer as he slid his slick finger in the teen's tight hole.
Stiles gasped and clawed the covers as Derek slowly thrusted his finger in and out his ass.
"Uh." Stiles panted.
"Feels good? Are you gonna cum for me?" Derek coaxed.
Stiles huffed and slide a hand under his stomach and began stroking his dick as Derek continued fingering his ass.
"Ohh Der, Der."
"Cum for me Stiles."
"Uhhh!"
Stiles groaned tiredly into his mattress as Derek withdrew his finger from his hole, going to the bathroom to clean up.
"Why?" Stiles asked as Derek came back into the room.
"You were begging for. See you at school Stilinski. Take care of that ass." He voiced before walking out.
"What just happened?" Stiles mumbled into his mattress, confused and slightly looking forward to school on Monday.
