"Okay, just go in there and change," he thought to himself. "Get in and get out, that's all. It's just a locker room and you need to do this workout to lose those 5 pounds. And it didn't look too bad when you took the tour yesterday. Hopefully there won't be too many guys in there."
Tim took a deep breath and pushed open the inner door to the locker room. He had always been uncomfortable about locker rooms, because he was always intimidated. Tim stands only 5'5" in his shoes (he never measures his height in his bare feet. 5'5" feels a lot taller than 5'4+".) and weighs 130 pounds. And he's small boned, so he doesn't feel big or strong even for his size. What height and weight he has is mostly in his trunk-his legs are shorter than average, his hips are narrow, and his butt is little. He almost always has to look up at men, who are also bigger and stronger than he is, so he has become adept at avoiding situations that call attention to his size.
At 35 he has been able to avoid locker rooms for many years, since high school, by doing his workouts from home, or even, when he was a member of another gym, by always changing at home. But this time he wants to get in shape, lose those pesky 5 pounds from his stomach, and not catch colds so often, which came from working out and then not changing into dry clothes before leaving them gym. When he toured this gym, he thought the locker room was just big enough for him to get lost in it, so he decided to try it. It didn't hurt that the guy who showed him around was only about 5'8" and that Tim saw guys who were mostly average or smaller than average, which made him hope that this gym would be used by mostly desk workers, family men, like him, and would not be a hard core gym filled with bodybuilders and weight lifters.
"Great, there's a spot right there," thought Tim, who went right to the first bench. Two other guys were using lockers along that short row, but they were below average in size (although still bigger than Tim), so Tim didn't feel too intimidated. Quickly he started to put his stuff into the locker, realizing at that point that he had forgotten a lock. "Oh well, my wallet's in the car, so it'll be okay," decided Tim to himself.
Being the careful person he was, Tim hung his shirt and t-shirt on the hook, removed his shoes, socks, and watch and placed them in the locker. Feeling a little more comfortable, with the music in the background, hearing but not listening to the two guys next to him talking about the weather, hearing other guys around the locker by the water cooler talking about coaching their boys but not hearing the sport, Tim took off his pants. At that moment he heard one of the coaches from by the water cooler say, "...yeah, but Timmy is the one I have to take care of first."
Tim couldn't see around the locker, knew he didn't recognize that deep voice, and knew that he didn't know anyone here, so he continued putting away his pants and stepped back to remove his underwear. All of a sudden Tim felt these huge fingers reach down the back of his underwear and then yank him high up in the air! Before he could even think he was turned around and slung over what felt like a large rock but was in reality a massive shoulder. From his new perch he could see over the top of the lockers. If he had stood on the bench he wouldn't have been as high in the air. This man who had picked him up and held him so effortlessly was a massive, muscular giant!
"Hey," exclaimed Tim in surprise, but no one heard him over the noise, because the giant was talking at the same time in his deep voice. "I should be finished with Timmy in a few minutes, then I need to hit the weights. Get at least three good warm-up sets done before I get there, Billy," said the big man over his other shoulder as he started to walk to the back of the locker room.
"Hey," exclaimed Tim again, as he began to flail his arms and legs.
Thwack. "Stop that, boy," ordered the deep voice as he gave Tim a smack on his little upturned butt and then flexed his bicep to wrap and keep Tim from moving. Intimidated and utterly helpless, Tim ceased his flailing and watched with a rear view as he was taken further away from his locker and the entrance to the locker room. All of the men in the locker room watched as the giant carried Tim back like captured prey, looking up at him with expressions of sympathy and also excitement, with traces of envy.
But the men were not silent. Several of the men shouted encouragement. "Go, Coach!" "Hit it good, Coach!" "Make it count, Coach!" One even said, "I'm next, Coach!" And then they started talking excitedly among themselves as the giant Coach rounded the corner of the locker room with the little man over his shoulder.
Tim then felt a lessening of the pressure around his waist, allowing him to take a deeper breath, and then those giant fingers were down the back of his underwear again, lifting him off the boulder called a shoulder. "You know the rules, Timmy. If you come to me when you mess up, you're punishment is just for the screw up. But if you make me come get you, then you're punishment is also for avoiding your responsibility. I don't let my boys get away with anything, so you should know it's better to own it and then take your punishment like a man."
Coach said this as he was lowering Tim down from his shoulder with his right hand. With a practiced grace, Coach pulled up on Tim's underwear to raise his rear end a little higher. Since at that moment Coach was dangling Tim by his underwear alone, Tim's upper body started to fall, right into Coach's huge left hand. Tim could feel Coach's hand covering the whole way across his chest and from his belly button to almost to the bottom of his neck.
Lifting higher on Tim's underwear, Coach balanced Tim's weight in his left hand, and then proceeded to pull Tim's underwear off him. "My boys get it bare," said Coach.
As this was happening, Tim tried to speak, tried to protest, to say he wasn't the boy Coach was looking for. But he was in such shock that all he could say was "wait" and "no, wait" in a very weak voice. Since Coach was talking the whole time, he didn't hear Tim.
Coach then put his massive right hand between Tim's legs and lifted to stretch him out horizontally in the air, giving Tim another shock. He hadn't had another man touch his dick and balls, except for a doctor. And at that moment, this powerful, forceful man had his most precious assets pressed in his giant hand. Like a gazelle with a lion, Tim could only freeze and wait.
"You feel lighter today, Timmy. What's it been, a couple weeks since I gave you your last punishment?" said Coach, as he lowered Tim onto his ripped, 34" thigh and spread Tim across his lap. "Guess you've been a pretty good boy. Or maybe you've been out of town. You're like all the boys here, Timmy, they can't go but a few days before they need their next spanking. I'll give you a few extra to make up for it."
As he was saying this, Coach placed his left hand on Tim's back, covering most of it, to hold him in place, and placed his right hand on Tim's little butt. As he talked, Coach squeezed Tim's little butt a few times and rubbed him along his thigh a little, to get him situated just right. "You seem to have lost the weight in your butt, Timmy. I know last time that you had more meat here. That's what happens when you get lazy and skip the squats."
Still in shock and feeling completely helpless, Tim was trapped on these pillars that were each many inches bigger than his waist. Both of Tim's thighs taken together were not as big as one of Coach's thighs! Coach's shorts covered most of his quads, so Tim could see the dark hair coming out at the end of the shorts Coach wore, hair that did not hide the lightly tanned skin or the density of the muscles. Tim could also see Coach's incredibly dense, pumped, ripped calf, which was as big as Tim's thigh.
As Coach situated him, Tim felt a somewhat pleasurable sensation. When Coach moved him, Tim's dick was rubbed across Coach's shorts, which felt good. Especially when Tim's dick caught the edge of the shorts and made contact with Coach's hard as steel thigh. That sensation caught Tim off-guard and he relaxed just a bit.
SMACK came the first blow. The pain seared Tim's little butt, causing him to jerk. But Coach was a professional, and he pressed his boy into his thighs.
SMACK came the second spank.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
By this time Tim was crying from the pain, his little butt burning. "I'm sorry, Sir!" he cried. "I'll be good, I promise, Sir!" But Coach ignored the pleas of the little man who was totally under his control.
SMACK
SMACK
"Sorry to interrupt you, Sir," said Dave.
"What is it, Davey," asked Coach.
"Sir, I know you're in the middle of punishing this bad boy, but I screwed up and need to be punished, too," explained Dave.
"I know, boy, and you'll get yours," responded Coach.
"Yes, Sir. But I have to meet my wife and kids at 7 o'cock, so I can't wait. But I need my punishment. So I was wondering if you could take me now and then finish with him after," asked Dave.
Tim was facing the other way, glad he couldn't see Dave. Then he was embarrassed to realize that his reddened butt was exposed for Dave to see, since his butt was facing that direction. "How humiliating," thought Tim, "this man is seeing me get a spanking like a little kid." Then Tim heard Dave say he needed his punishment and was a little less embarrassed. With a hope of relief, he wished Coach would let him up and give Dave his spanking.
"Alright, Davey, I'll squeeze you in. I know how much you need it. You will get a couple extra for interrupting me," said Coach. "Come on."
"Yes, Sir, whatever you decide, Sir. Thank you, Sir," gushed Dave as he lay down on top of Tim. Tim couldn't believe it-this man was going to get spanked while lying on top of him!
"Make sure your prick is situated right, boy. Last time you grew right into Billy. Push it down," ordered Coach.
"Yes, Sir. I'll keep it between his ass cheeks, but pointed down," answered Dave as he placed his already expanding member pointing down Tim's ass. With shock Tim felt Dave's dick between the tops of his inner thighs. "Ready, Sir."
Just then John came around the corner to ask Coach a question and was greeted with the sight of two men draped over Coach's huge thighs, getting spanked. He could tell Dave had just gotten into position, because his ass was still white. John knew from experience that a Coach spanked ass was never white. As usual, John admired Dave's over developed bubble butt, although he usually didn't get to see it presented so splendidly for viewing. John loved looking at Dave's body-dark, curly hair, ruddy but handsome face, nicely proportioned and developed arms, legs, chest and back, and great six pack abs over a 28 inch waist. And especially Dave's delicious butt. John didn't see it very often, but he made sure he gave it good athletic smacks whenever they played basketball together. Once he caught his breath John asked Coach a couple of questions and then left.
While Coach was distracted, Dave whispered in Tim's ear, "Sorry, buddy, but my wife's waiting and I have to get home. Thanks for being a sport. By the way, my name's Dave. What's yours?"
"Tim," answered the littler man automatically.
"Don't worry, buddy, you'll survive. You might not want to sit for a while, but you'll make it. Ever been spanked before?" asked Dave.
"Not since I was a kid. And I shouldn't be getting spanked now. I'm not the Timmy he was looking for, but he never asked me," explained Tim.
"Well, he is the boss here, so you better go along with it," advised Dave. "And don't mind my arousal. I'll try to keep it under control. Ugh....," said Dave as Coach gave him the first of many spanks. By the eighth, Dave was fully aroused, with his engorged cock rubbing between Tim's legs each time Coach made contact and pressed him down. Tim tried but couldn't spread his legs wider, to give Dave room, so Tim's ass and legs were a natural hole for Dave's full dick.
Dave fought for control with each of the last two smacks, because he knew Coach wouldn't give him any more spankings for a month if he lost it. After the last spank Dave teetered on cumming, breathing so hard in Tim's ear he almost douched it. If Coach had squeezed, rubbed, or patted Dave's butt at that moment, Dave would have cum. But Coach knows his boys, so he just waited until Dave started to breathe again. He then lifted Dave off his lap (and his lap pillow Timmy) and stood him up. Dave's well-engorged dick was pointing straight up, but he had maintained control. Coach turned him around and gave him a couple of well-deserved swats on the butt, saying, "Good job, Davey. I'm proud of you. Now get home to that good woman of yours and make her happy."
"Yes, Sir. I will, Sir. Thank you, Sir," answered Dave as he slowly went back to his locker to change.
Coach picked up right where he left off with little Timmy. SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK. . . . SMACK. By this point Tim was crying, his butt hurt so much. After a minute, Tim felt his butt be encased by Coach's enormous hand, the hand of punishment that now started to soothe. Coach massaged Tim's little ass slowly and deliberately. Coach's fingers were so long he was able to extend a couple of them down between Tim's legs to right below his balls to massage and squeeze from there the whole way to the top of his glutes. As before, he started to rub Tim along his shorts and thigh. Soon, the stinging in Tim's butt died down and his tears had stopped.
Then Coach reached between Tim's legs, more than encased his little but now half-hard dick and balls with his right hand, put his left hand back under Tim, on his chest, raised him upright, and held him off the ground on the outside of his right thigh.
"You're not Timmy," said Coach, as he looked at Tim's face for the first time.
"No, sir," responded Tim meekly.
"I thought your butt was too small and your legs too short. Why didn't you say anything, little man? You just took Timmy's punishment for him," said Coach.
"I'm sorry, sir. I tried," answered Tim, still thoroughly intimidated as he was held in Coach's huge right hand, his short little legs dangling off the floor, his hands resting on the steel beam that is Coach's thigh, and his little dick pressed in Coach's grip.
"What's your name, son," asked Coach.
"Timmy, sir," answered Tim, who gave his boyhood name to the boss who was holding him off the ground in his mighty hand, a name he otherwise never used because it reminded him of being short. In Coach's hand, he could not claim a man's name when he felt like a boy.
"At least the name matches. I'm sorry, son," said Coach. "I made a mistake and I'm going to make it up to you." As he said this, he lifted Timmy around to his left side, and set him down on the floor. He then put his right hand on Tim's back, bending him forward over his left thigh, and reached behind him into a locker. Tim looked that way, but all he could see were the massive, engorged pecs and ripped abs of the mighty man. He then looked to his left and was stunned to see a full length mirror. His mouth dropped open when he saw how little he was next to this muscular giant. Coach looked to be at least twice his size, in every way. He not only felt little, he was little.
He heard some rustling, then started to feel Coach massaging his butt again, only this time with feeling and with alternating pressure. Coach started to rub Timmy across his thigh, putting exquisite pressure on Timmy's little dick. As Timmy was enjoying this, he noticed some pressure at his asshole. Thinking it was just Coach not realizing that his fingers were hitting a new spot, Timmy tried wiggling his ass to change the pressure point.
"Hold still, Timmy," ordered Coach, "You're going to get your reward." Coach proceeded to press his gloved and lubed ring finger into Timmy's little hole. "You're going to love this. You sure are tight, son. Just relax."
The pain was almost too much for Timmy, who had never taken it up the ass before. He tried saying no, but he was afraid to tell Coach no when he was trying to make up for his mistake. Like a well-spanked boy, Timmy tried to follow orders and relax.
Coach worked his finger into Timmy's asshole slowly, lovingly, with great care. Finally Coach's entire finger was in. He held it still, with his other fingers now massaging Timmy's butt again. When he knew that Timmy had adapted to the invader, Coach began to slowly, deliberately fuck Timmy's boy-pussy with his finger.
Once the pain subsided and he could think again, Timmy couldn't believe how long Coach's finger was. He felt it up inside his gut. He couldn't believe that he had come in to do a workout and was worried that guys would pick on him. Here he was, having been spanked and now was being fucked! Unbelievable.
Then Timmy jerked with surprise and pleasure when Coach began to fuck him with his finger, rubbing over his prostate, giving him a feeling he had never experienced before. In and out almost the whole way, then back in again went Coach's finger. Timmy quickly got lost in the feeling, not knowing how long or how many times Coach pleasured him. And not realizing that he was groaning.
But Coach was listening. When the muscle giant could tell that Timmy was close, he lifted the little man up, keeping his finger up Timmy's ass, and held him seated in his mighty left hand. Coach used his right hand to hold Timmy's semi-limp body upright. The 7'2" mountain of a man then stood up and faced the mirror with Timmy in his left hand.
Coach then used his long fingers, which he had reached through Timmy's legs, and started massaging Timmy's now fully erect dick. After five deliberate stokes, then five more ever faster strokes, Coach felt Timmy's balls lock up and send a stream up his dick. Carefully Coach aimed Timmy's now shooting dick at the mirror. He used Timmy's cum to spell out "Timmy" on the mirror.
Finally Coach set Timmy down on the floor, made sure he had his balance, and pulled his finger from Timmy's boy-pussy. "Good job, Timmy. I'm proud of you," said Coach. He then reached down and gave Timmy a couple of playful swats on the butt and said, "Next time your punishment will be for you. Now go do your workout."
Timmy moved around the corner of the locker room, not believing how much he had cum or how good he felt. Before he got to his locker, several guys surrounded him.
"Look at that red ass." "He sure must have been bad." "Coach takes no prisoners." "Hey, he just came." "I didn't think Coach gave that reward the first time." "Me either." "I've been spanked five times and haven't been rewarded yet."
"Where did he aim you," asked Dave, "at the towel or the wastebasket?"
"At the mirror," answered Tim.
"Oh man, how do you rate? I've never been aimed at the mirror. He only does that as a very special reward," exclaimed Billy.
"Well, he spanked me instead of the other Timmy, so he made it up to me," explained Timmy as he proceeded to his locker. He then put on his workout clothes and went out to follow Coach's order. He had to be careful when he pulled up his jockstrap, since he was now sensitive on both sides, but he felt good. He thought, "I'm going to like this gym."
The End.
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