Rugby Training Chapter 6
Rugby Training: A Hard Lesson - Part 6
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The burning sensation on Malcolm's cock and balls didn't go away quickly. In the ten minutes after Luke had left the room, the heat on his ballsack coursed through his genitals from the outside at the slowest possible speed. Never had Malcolm been so aware of his anatomy. As the burning wave of pain passed through his sack, he could feel each part of his inner workings entering its sphere of influence -- his skin, ducts, muscles, nerves and testes. And the burning continued, focussing ever more intensely on the inner centre of each testicle. As the intensity ramped up, as the concentric waves of pain met in the inner part of his ballsack, Malcolm started to lose control. Gritting his teeth on the wooden flagpole to the point of exhaustion, he focussed fully on not letting Coach Briar down. Not a sound, he thought to himself over and over again. That was his command, and he was determined to obey. He knew that he could be the player Coach Briar, Luke and, indeed, he himself wanted him to be. After the pain reached the centre of his balls, after 20 minutes of waiting, the pain slowly began to recede, leaving a cold, empty feeling in its place. Slowly, Malcolm was able to relax his jaw muscles and take in the situation, though he wished he could get rid of the mouth gag so he could relax his jaw properly. But regardless, he had done it. He had taken the deep-heat treatment and not made a sound. But now he was tired. His muscles ached from the restraints and his neck muscles ached from holding his head up. It was five minutes later, as his head dropped uncomfortably forwards, that Malcolm heard the door open and footsteps approach. The door closed again, returning the room to its complete darkness. The thick hands of Coach Briar played with the hear on the back Malcolm's head, letting the hair glide gently through his fingers. Suddenly, and without saying anything, he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Malcolm's head up so that he was looking forward. There was a tug on the end of the flagpole in Malcolm's mouth and the pole began to be slid out sideways. Once the flagpole had been removed, Malcolm began to move his jaw to relax his muscles, but noticed that Coach Briar's body must be close to him -- not only was his breath clearly bouncing off a nearby surface, but the feint smell of sports sweat was entering his nose -- a smell which Malcolm was easily able to attribute to Coach Briar. He had smelt it on a number of occasions when entering Coach Briar's office while he had been working out. A bitter mixture of testosterone, grit and salt filling his nostrils. At that moment, Coach Briar took a step forward and Malcolm felt hairs against his mouth. Instinctively, he began to lick and found that his tongue was playing with the tip of Coach Briar's solid, protruding nipples. Malcolm found this an enjoyable distraction from the cold sensation in his balls post-treatment, and took to it with vigour, wanting to see what kind of a reaction he could get out of his coach. Sucking on it and flicking his tongue up and over his nipple, Coach Briar was clearly enjoying the sensations and grabbed Malcolm's hair harder, pushing his face into his muscle tit. His nose squashed, Malcolm put all his energy into providing as much stimulation as possible to his Coach's chest, hoping that this would give him an erection. It was clear that he had been working out while Malcolm had been dealing with the effects of his post-shaving treatment. Once again slamming Malcolm's face into his chest, Coach Briar quietly commanded Malcolm, `Use your teeth'. Wow, he clearly likes it hard, thought Malcolm, to which he began to bite and chew on the thick, protruding nipple to provoke a response. But nothing. Not a sound came from Coach Briar. Suddenly, the grip on Malcolm's hair disappeared, leaving the full weight of his head resting against Coach Briar's chest. Quickly, a harness was applied to Malcolm's head using velcro straps. One around his forehead, one around his throat, then vertical straps connecting them with one going straight over the front of his face with holes for his nose and mouth. Extra straps went over his ears, restricting his hearing. Coach Briar must have been practiced at this, as the time that Malcolm was removed from his nipple service while the facial strap was applied couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 seconds. `Get back on it', said Coach Briar, as the strap was applied and his face returned to press against Coach Briar's hairy chest. Once applied, Coach Briar reached up and attached the harness around Malcolm's forehead to a hook on the bondage apparatus so that his head was held upright without need for Malcolm to strain his neck to hold his head in position. It was at this moment that Coach Briar, now having his hands free, put his hands behind his head to enjoy the hard treatment his nipples were getting.
All of a sudden, Malcolm's nostrils were filled with a cloud of caustic bitterness, sending a shiver down his spine. This waft of acrid sweat and unwashed body parts sent Malcolm's tongue into overdrive, flicking all around Coach Briar's nipple in search of the source of this grimy smell. Coach Briar let out a small laugh, `Seems like you like the smell of my armpits, boy. Was going to give you the choice later of licking them clean or drinking my piss, but it looks like this isn't the tough decision I thought it might be.'
When Coach Briar then raised his right arm slightly to expose his sweaty pit, something in Malcolm's head flipped. The smell sent Malcolm into overdrive and Coach Briar liked it, holding his pit just out of Malcolm's reach. Unable to control himself, Malcolm strained his whole head and tongue as far as he could to find the holy grail. Later, when reliving this experience in his head, Malcolm knew that it was at this moment that it was game-over for any form of resistance. In that moment, his nostrils filled with that stench of dripping sweat, he gave in to the inevitable: his entire body and brain was consumed with the desperate need to get into his Coach's armpit and wallow in the hairy stench, to feel its wetness on his face, to get absolutely coated in it. His inner sexual being completely took over and reduced him to nothing more than a dog, straining against his bondage straps like a rottweiler.
Keeping his armpit in place, Coach Briar knew better than to simply give Malcolm what he wanted. He hadn't expected the reaction to be this strong, but if it was, then he had a lot of leverage.
Moving back slightly so he was out of Malcolm's reach. In order to let Malcolm play with his nipples, he had pulled the front of his rugby top up and hooked it behind his head. Now that his top was fully off, his armpits were now exposed and they'd had two hours since his workout to ripen. Putting his hands up behind his head, he let the full smell of his ripe pits defuse across the space to Malcolm, who promptly began to thrash about again in his suspended bondage, once more trying to get the full impact of the smell. After 30 seconds or so, Coach Briar set out the situation.
`Stop moving, boy. You're going to need your energy to earn what you want. It is clear that you like my smell. That's good to see. While your balls were acclimatising to their treatment, I took the opportunity to workout. Moreover, you'll be interested to hear that I wore my training shirt. You may not know this but I keep a special shirt for training purposes which I do not wash. That's right. In my office cupboard is a shirt, kept in a specific bag which has been worn during most of my training sessions for the past 3 years and which has not been washed at any point. Some people might think this unhygienic, but there is something you might not know. Although it is common knowledge that the smell of sweat comes from accumulated bacteria, bacteria also has a common limiter -- once a bacterial colony has reached a given size, it cannot sustain any further enlargement without damaging itself. As such, instead of growing, that colony changes its function, namely replacing the existing old bacteria with new. In this way, the average age of the bacteria gets younger and younger, and the effect on the smell is -- as you seem to have noticed -- intoxicating. The smell is purer, less stale, sharper, it has a heavier waft to it. All in all, it is pretty powerful. And so, I decided to treat you to some of it. And I'm happy to give more of it to you, but for a price.'
Hearing this, Malcolm's cock was already dripping and leaving a small puddle on the floor of the playroom. That smell was all-consuming and he wanted it on him, in him, right now. He wanted to be covered in it, wallow in it, be fed it, have it flowing through his veins. It drove him wild.
`So, here is how it is going to happen. I am going to feed you my pits. In fact, if you'd like me to go work out some more, then I'd be happy to do that. Really work up that stink. I do really want to give you what you want: when you finally get your face in my pits -- and you will get the chance to lick them both clean for as long as you want -- but when that happens, I want you to be in agony. I want you to know that you have to earn this. And you will. Or else, you don't get to lick my pits.'
Coach Briar left a small pause for the information to sink in. Arms still behind his head, pits exposed, he knew what his most powerful tool at this moment was and he was milking it for all its worth. The smell was just as effective on himself. His shorts were fully tented and he took a second or two to turn his head to the side and enjoy the aroma before explaining to Malcolm how the process would work.
`So, here is how this will work. I have already decided how much pain I want you to be withstanding while you are licking my pits, rubbing your face in my armpit hair and smearing your face in the sweaty moistness. All we need to do is build up to it. So, I will give you start by giving you two options, from which you will chose one or say `out'. By saying `out', you will no longer be subjected to the pain, but on the flip side, your opportunity to taste me will be gone. Once you have chosen the option, you will have 20 seconds to adjust to it -- or to endure it, however you want to see it -- until the next option is giving to you, and so the process continues. Your job is not just to decide which increase in pain you want next, but also to judge for yourself whether you think the amount of pain you are currently experiencing is more of less than the pain I want you to be experiencing while you enjoy my pits. Once you feel that the appropriate pain level has been reached, you may request to lick my pits. At that point, within a matter of seconds, the pain level will be adjusted to reflect the level I planned for you, and the pit-licking will commence. You will then be allowed to lick them for as long as you like and request me to alternate the armpit that is presented to your face for your enjoyment. But of course, the key part is the adjustment. If you under-estimate the pain level, then your request to start licking my armpits will result in a significant extra dose of pain being given to you in one go. You can at that point of course -- as at any point in this process -- say `out' and the pain will stop, but so will your access to my pits. On the flip-side, if you over-estimate, then your request to start licking my pits will result in a decrease of the pain level. That would therefore allow you to better enjoy the smell, which would be quite something, no doubt. But you will have endured excess pain for no reason. Of course, you probably think that I might cheat you and just say that the pain level was higher even though it wasn't. To assure you that it isn't, I have already shown Luke what implements are to be applied and where during your armpit-enjoyment, and he will be helping to apply them throughout the process. As such, the level is set in stone before we start. It is a very challenging level of pain -- as I said earlier, I want to see you in agony while licking me -- but it is also a level of pain that you are capable of taking should you be able to focus your mind appropriately. And so, I guess now is as good a time as ever to begin. What do you reckon, Malcolm?'
Malcolm was up for it. After the ball treatment, he knew that it would be hard, but he also knew that his Coach wanted the best for him and wouldn't play tricks on him. He trusted him fully and liked the matter-of-fact way he talked about pain, as if it was just another daily task to fulfil. He wanted pain to become something he could master, something that didn't have to be scared of, something he could calmly confront and withstand. In short, he wanted this to hurt. However, he had also been listening very carefully.
`Sir. Your boy accepts the challenge willingly, but has a request per the explanation given. You said, Sir, that if I would like you to go work out some more, than you'd be happy to do so. May your boy request that, after the first round's option has been applied, that you go and work out for 10 minutes? Your boy would like to endure the pain given to it in those 10 minutes knowing that Sir is enduring a hard workout and supporting his boy by increasing the intensity of his pit-stink'.
Putting his arms back down, Coach Briar stepped forward to put his face against Malcolm's. `That sounds like a good idea, boy. But I have a suggestion of my own.' Reducing his voice to just above a whisper, Coach Briar continued, `I go work out after you've had the second round's option applied. Deal?'
Malcolm's cock got involuntarily harder. `Deal', he replied.
`So', said Coach Briar into Malcolm's ear, `nipple clamps or ball weights?'