~ Dustin's Secret Lacuna ~
~ Featuring: A SKELETON KEY IN A LOCK ~
Second (and Probably Last) Part: The Tilted Top
"Go fuck yourself, Dustin."
"I'm not sure how to do that, Colt," he said, his voice a bit subdued.
I snarled; the double doors swung back, ushering us down the hall toward the locker room.
Things had gone from bad to worse.
It crashed in on me, as I took one step after another, the red hot sparks derailing from my nerves and shooting down the hairs of my flexing muscles, like cars careening past the guard rail and off a cliff.
Each step another sliding squeak against the shiny tile.
We'd lost.
I wouldn't have thought it possible. How could we lose to Kai and the faggot?
So basically...two faggots?
The redshirts had a tryout for the last opening on the team; I should have been a shoe-in, as the buffest, most talented guy out there.
An hour and a half at the gym...morning and night...had chiseled my muscles till I was stronger than even the seniors--except maybe Orion, the guy who took over as captain ever since Leo stubbed his arm (resulting in his role on the team needing replacing).
When did things go wrong for me?
It was obvious, of course.
For a long time, I thought my issue was with Godric, the flaming wannabe who liked to do magic tricks with cards when girls hit on him, which seemed a very odd use of time given he could just fuck them.
But Godric was just the beginning of my misfortunes.
Things really took a turn for the worse when Dustin mucked everything up in December.
The chemistry changed. He lost his spark, devolving into a nervous, bumbling bitch around me. You would have thought he would get the hint, given how little I've talked to him since, but he couldn't seem, to let it go, could he?
Who would have thought it could affect him so much that we couldn't even beat a couple of brain-dead boobs at a game they sucked at?
I slammed my locker door against the one next to it, stripping down to nothing and whipping out my towel. The showers wouldn't wash this feeling away would they?
"You threw the game, didn't you?" I asked. "To punish me."
"Colt, can't you just admit they outplayed us?"
Dustin stood nearby, naked, glistening with sweat, looking at me with concern in his stupid blue eyes.
I grabbed him by the shoulders, slamming him into the locker.
"What's WRONG with you, Dustin?" I yelled.
"What's wrong with ME?" Dustin said. "You are the one with no control."
I charged up and punched him in the stomach.
He doubled over, coughing without sound. I grabbed the back of his head, chewing on my tongue, snarling as I pinned his face into the bench. He struggled against me.
"Seems like I'm in control to me."
Sure, he was a fighter, but we'd long-since established who owned the ring.
"Colt," he whispered. "Colt, what if someone sees?"
For a second, I didn't understand what he meant.
Sees me kicking the shit out of him?
Who cares.
But then I spotted what he meant.
Dustin's meaty boner--easily 9 and half inches--was stretching out along the bench underneath him, in spite of his best efforts to clench his eyes shut and make the world disappear.
"What the fuck, Dustin? Do you like this?"
I slapped his pert ass and he whimpered.
"Colt, they could finish any second...we should just shower."
"Who do you think you are fooling?" I asked, grabbing a big, muscled globe of butt cheek.
"I'd like to--at least fool the others."
"Get up," I said, pulling him to his feet by the hair. "You still have that skeleton key?"
A few months back, we had a copy of a skeleton key made that could open almost any door on campus. We used it on a mission to move dated treasures we found from the old "blighted" gym to the current one (much of the extra Fagball junk was still catty-cornered in the storage room off of coach's office).
"I got it," Dustin said. "In my locker."
"Give it."
Dustin turned, his sculpted ass glinting, his jumbo dick reaching up and stabbing into the locker as he fumbled inside.
At one point one of his socks popped out, littering the floor.
I shook my head and picked it up. He often joked about Jayden being our 'cocksock'--the sock you cum in--but with Jayden busy, maybe Leo's role wasn't the only one needing replacing.
"Found it," Dustin said, dangling it next to me. "Wha--"
I ripped it from his grasp, then grabbed Dustin by the back of the neck, frog-marching him forward.
I know what you are thinking. One time with Dustin is a freak event. Two would make a pattern.
But I was so fucking pissed at him...It was all his damn fault...who better to take it out on?
"You want privacy, bitch?" I muttered. "There's only one place around with any privacy."
We stopped outside the door.
"COACH'S OFFICE?" Dustin said, his voice breaking.
"You wanted somewhere no one goes."
"I can think of at least one person who might go in there."
"Well, if we head to the showers, it's a lot more than one person that might find us. You do the math."
"I don't like math. Too many rules. Colt, why don't we go to the showers and actually shower?"
I grabbed his balls, squeezing them a bit, my thumb riding up the base of dick, which shot back to life, prodding his abs.
"It's been a while for you, hasn't it?" I asked.
"Colt," he said, his voice fading, his breath running.
I stabbed the key into the lock and twisted till it clicked, then pushed Dustin inside.
I flipped the lights on and slammed the door behind us.
"Colt--"
I didn't let him get another word in before I threw him on Coach's desk.
I climbed on top of him, pinning him down, using my knees to spread his legs out. I wrapped my arm under his neck, flexing him into a tight headlock until he was hacking for air.
At this point, I was so pissed off and riled up that I didn't really care about anything except letting off steam.
"Why'd you let us lose?"
"Cuhhhhh--Cuhhhkkk---"
I think he was trying to say my name.
"No one's gonna hear you struggling in here. So I'll ask you again: Why'd you let us lose, FAGGOT?"
I released my arm from him, and he let out a little noise.
"I--I like being a redshirt," he said at last.
"So you didn't even want to win?"
"We'll be on the team next season. This one's almost over. And--I kind of like the way things were. When we kicked back and got high and had pizza and porn and it was just us. I had fun planning my little games...and Jayden sort of took care of us. It was like a team inside a team."
"That's so FUCKING STUPID! You realize that if Jayden makes the REAL team, the redshirts will be short their old party favor anyway? Things aren't GOING to go back to the way they were, no matter what happens! Jayden's taken now and he doesn't care about you anymore."
"Shut UP!" Dustin said, finding strength somewhere and throwing me off of him.
I landed on my feet, chuckling slightly.
We'd learned why Jayden ditched us last time. He'd moved on to greener pastures--the heartthrob he'd been pining over for years finally saw fit to use his gay ass.
That left us one cum-dump short.
I pulled on the bottom drawers of coach's desk, on both the left then the right, till they rolled out and reached the ends of their tracks.
"What are you lookin' for?" Dustin asked.
"Nothing," I said. "I just want a place for you to rest your knees when I spread your ass."
"The edges of those drawers? They'll slice right through my thighs."
It would probably be good for him; he needed to toughen up. I sighed. It was true I could use something with a bit more support; I didn't want him to jostle around TOO much.
I scanned the room, my eyes falling on the storage room door. It was a catty-cornered such that it had two doors and could be opened from either the main locker room or coach's office.
I walked over, tried the skeleton key, and heard the storage room click open. On the floor, amongst the supplies we'd rescued from the old gym, still faithfully nesting and proving their worth--were two scooter boards.
Essentially thick squares of plastic with wheels glued to each of the four corners, and about the size of place-mats, the scooter boards had proven themselves to be fag-friendly by how Jayden took to riding them around when he wanted to suck our feet.
But that was a story for another day.
I grabbed the two scooter boards by the wheels and slammed them down onto coach's pulled-out drawers, creating little platforms.
"Crouch on these," I said.
"Colt I dunno--"
I reached between his legs and squeezed his balls till his dick went hard again.
Dustin gasped and swiveled around, dangling his legs off the end of the desk. I grabbed his thighs and pushed them down till his knees dug into the scooter boards, his legs stretched apart, his ass glinting up at me.
I ran my palms up his quads and thighs, massaging, before gripping his ass cheeks and spreading them wide.
"Colt..." he whispered.
"No more stalling Dustin."
I spat on my cock, rubbing it up and down his crack.
He started breathing funny, spreading his legs a bit wider.
No need for a prolonged preamble...
I chuckled, grabbed his head by the hair, and jammed my fat cock deep down his tight slot.
He squealed like a pig, flailing, but he had nowhere to go.
His body was barricaded by the desk itself. Only his upper half could move, and soon it slouched over, pinned to the desk of its own accord, leaving only his round muscled ass airbound.
That's all I needed. I pawed at it, building up strength and speed till his ass was clapping for me like a slutty groupie at the end of a Meth Smokers concert.
The wheels on the scooter board started to rattle around of their own accord, dancing in circles in a formation of spinning tops. They made whisking noises as I hammered Dustin deeper; soon after he let out a series of little grunts.
It was a bit easier to get inside him this time--he wasn't a virgin anymore.
"Fuck, faggot. You've been dreaming about this since last time, haven't you?"
He didn't say anything, clenching his eyes shut, and whimpering, but his mammoth boner said it all.
There was something to be said for taking down the guy with the biggest dick on the team, who probably fashioned himself some kind of masculine muscle jock, and making him my faggot cum-dump bitch.
That wasn't what I'd set out to do this morning, but fuck--that's what we were in for tonight.
Had he not been pushing for it?
Had he not been acting weird for weeks?
Had he not basically admitted he lost on purpose, even if it provoked me?
Because it got under my skin?
Had he not admitted he was infatuated with being a red-shirt, second-tier, beta?
I leaned over now, casting a shadow on him, grabbing him by the hair again.
"Look at me, Dustin." I glared right into his eyes. "Just tell me why."
"I don't know why I like being a redshirt. I--fuck--I just do."
I gripped each ass cheek in one hand, holding this dumb bitch in place as I thrust deep. I wanted to hurt him. To punish him. To funnel my anger into him.
But I wasn't sure it would work.
I had learned that once someone transformed into a faggot, they turned everything inside-out.
Punishment became reward; truth became lies; wrong became right.
This harked back to why I hated fags in the first place.
They know what men want. And unlike women, who make it into a kind of negotiating game, the fags seem to get off on giving up all their bargaining chips at the first possible chance.
What's the end game?
Are they going to collect their dues down the line, like some kind of Crossroads Demon?
Nothing in life is free. If they can't take your money, or your heart, they must want SOMETHING.
But it's obvious what they want. It's your soul they are after.
Like a libtard who twists the rules till every remaining option for integrity is bad, a faggot wants you to make their dreams come true and then feel a kind of indebted guilt for giving them what they want.
The secret is to find the overlap of what they want and you want, give them exactly that, and not a single thing more.
Maybe take a bit extra for yourself.
"Colt, it hurts. Can't you use more lube?"
"Are you kidding me?"
I slapped his ass and rammed in faster, till he scrunched his face and collapsed forward again.
I let out a chuckle, slowing down.
Alright. A bit more grease wouldn't hurt anyone...
I pulled most of the way out, spitting on my cock again.
As I built back up, I went a bit slower, giving him reassuring rubs on his ass, shoulders, and (after reaching around) his nipples.
He seemed to like that, letting out soft whimpering noises.
Within a few minutes, his ass acclimated, and I started to feel the tell-tale contractions of a faggot ass in heat.
"You ready for me to pound, Dustin?"
He caught his breath--then pushed his muscle ass up at me.
"Hurry, man. The others..."
"That's a good bitch," I growled, slamming home.
I built up, faster and faster, bruising his faggot ass with my muscles of metal.
He made a high-pitched noise, chewing on the edge of the desk, making it splinter a bit.
Coach might think he had a beaver problem.
But all beavers can do is work things with their mouths.
Personally, I'd rather work with a jackhammer.
"Unnff. Unnff!! UNFF!!"
I fucked some weird noises out of Dustin, until we heard the main locker room doors bounce open.
I clapped Dustin's mouth shut, pausing my thrusts.
Voices carried from the main area, as I held Dustin still.
"Where's Dustin and Colt?"
"Must have showered and left already."
"That was fast."
"Well...Colt didn't really seem in he mood to linger."
The voices were Jayden and Kai. Soon they trailed off.
After a minute or so, we heard the showers running.
"Which one you think made the team?" Dustin asked.
"That's what you are thinking about right now? Not how you are getting FUCKED on Coach's desk?"
"Well...I'm multi-tasking."
I smeared his sweaty face into the desk, cramming my cock in hard. "Focus."
"Umph...But if Kai and Jayden...mmph! Are finished...UHHH! Couldn't....nnnh...coach be coming next?"
"All the more reason for us to come first," I said, giving his ass another clap. "Besides, he's gonna spend some time training the rest of the team."
"Colt..."
I reached around and squeezed his balls, before gripping his veiny firehouse. I slipped his sock over it, using it to jack his dick twice.
"This will keep you contained when you blow. Now get us off."
"Mmmph," he said, clenching all over, pushing his ass back twice, meeting my thrusts.
"Good boy," I said, nibbling on his neck.
As I worked my way into a frenzy, Dustin kept moaning and shoving his ass up high.
When I pulled out half-way, the walls opened slightly, ready for more, like his ass was giving me a series of slow kisses.
When I thrust all the way in, the walls of his ass slowly closed, holding it in place.
I raced through till he couldn't push back anymore, couldn't clench anymore, and he collapsed forward, making nonsense noises and lolling his tongue out like a panting animal.
I felt the energy building through me, a kind of imperial triumph; I had conquered this cunt and if my mammoth flexing muscles were any indication, this particular brand of domination suited me.
A flickering fire lit within me, and inside it, a single thought: maybe these queens could serve a purpose after all.
As long as they know who is king.
"Please, Colt....Please. Finish it."
"Yeah...you want my cum?"
"Do it, just do it, just do it..."
"FAG!"
"Mmph, Mmmph, MMMPH!"
We heard the doors to the lockers slam open again, and this time, coach's voice echoing through. "And if I get any more of this claptrap!"
Dustin's eyes went wide; I clapped his mouth shut again; he shook his face. I pounded him like my life depended on it.
"What's that noise?" Coach asked. "Is there a leak?"
It wasn't a leak. It was more like a water main bursting.
After one last, especially pathetic ass clench from Dustin, his ass wrapped deep around my cock; I couldn't hold back any longer.
I built up like an ocean storm until...until...until...
Waves crash down on a tide pool; my thrashing body fills him up.
His eyes glazed over.
The door to the office clicked, and I braced myself, too high on sex to care.
Though the door swung open, coach's back was turned, as he shouted something trite at Orion.
"COACH!" Orion said.
Orion caught my eyes over coach's shoulder. If coach turned his head, he would see me balls-deep up Dustin's ass, who in turn was sprawled out on his desk like a whore.
Orion, for his part, already saw the whole picture.
"What is it, Orion?" Coach asked slowly.
"Well, it's just...I had an idea for a play...WHERE I GET REALLY LOUD IN THE DEFENDER'S EAR! And Justin starts barking like a dog. WOOOOO! And Kai and Godric start doing this....Wacaa! Waccaaa! And flap their arms."
Dustin and I wobbled to our feet; my cock still up his ass, the scooter boards sticking to his knees. Dustin picked them off, holding them by the wheels, as I pulled out of his ass, doing everything I could to stay quiet as his ass gave my cock one final, stretching tug.
We didn't have time to clean the stain off the floor; we just had time to stumble into the storage room, pull the door shut behind us, and hope coach didn't put everything together.
--
"Are we going to be able to have real conversations about this?" Dustin whispered, nuzzling into my abs as we sunk into the storage room junk.
I tapped his face.
"Ssshh."
"No I won't sssshhh...where is this going?"
Orion's designed play proposal was becoming increasingly otherworldly. He had started making laser beam noises.
I sighed, deciding we perhaps did in fact have a few seconds to see where things were going.
"It's not going ANYWHERE, Dustin. I don't FEEL anything."
"I mean, it went from a one-time thing to a two-time thing. It went from you feeling pissed to you feeling nothing. It's clearly going somewhere. What are we doing?"
"I'll tell you what we are doing. I'm gonna tell the others that I kicked off steam by lifting weights after the tryouts, and then I'll shower. And if coach finds you, you will tell him you are moping after getting cut from the real team all over again. Sound like a plan?"
"Yeah, whatever. But in the long-run?"
"In the long run, I'm gonna marry a woman and make babies. You know--the way God intended."
"I dunno what God intended. My mom says He can be very mysterious. I do like a good puzzle."
"Solve this, then," I said, rustling to my feet and throwing a tarp over his head. I gave him a little nudge with my foot for good measure.
He lay there, motionless under the tarp.
I shook my head.
Once I heard coach's door click shut, indicating he had finally entered his office, I figured the moment had come. I used the other door from the storage room into the locker room, like a novice illusionist popping out of his box.
Only Orion was waiting for me, with an eyebrow cocked. "Should I ask what all this is about?"
"No."
With a sinking feeling, I realized that Dustin's cum-coated cocksock was likely still on coach's floor, and might constitute the exact kind of claptrap coach found distressing.
I made my way to the showers before I could be associated with the crime scene.
If Coach found the sock and decided to check the storage room, he'd find Dustin in a pretty compromised position.
But that was Dustin's problem.
If the last hour was any indication, being in a compromising position wasn't REALLY such a problem for him.
He was an absolute ab slut, through and through.
And as for Jayden and Kai?
I felt the flame flickering in me again.
They'd learn their place in life soon enough.
-- Curious where Crush My Bubble went? Thought's on someone's lacuna?
I have the answers.
Feel free to shoot me a line:
krazytop@gmail.com krazytop.tumblr.com krazystories.tumblr.com ---