Serving Casey
By Ben Coolen
bencoolen1212@gmail.com
This story contains sexual acts (domination, submission, oral sex, masturbation) between young males. If you don't like it, or it is illegal in your country, state or community, please stop reading it immediately.
This story is 100% fiction.
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Thanks to Naughty Bard for proofreading the text.
Chapter 2
Casey whatsapped me.
"Dude, I'm taking Kathy to the movies."
"I need you to pick up my stuff from the locker room after practice."
I felt annoyed. We had planned to go see a movie together. Yet I replied dutifully.
"Sure Casey."
"Get there right after 4. Knock on the door and the guys will show you where my shit is."
"Bring the bag to me after 7."
"Yes Casey. Have a nice date with Kathy."
Casey didn't reply.
I hated the idea of having to go to the locker room. A guy like me did definitely not belong there. But as always, I did what Casey told me to do.
I parked my car near the gym and went in. I found the locker room and stopped in front of the door to gather my courage. I could hear young male voices on the other side. I knew I had to act confidently, just like I was one of the guys. One of the guys -- little did I know. But I was about to learn.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Then I waited for a moment, but no one came to open the door. I knocked again, this time louder. I heard a pause in the voices and a young guy opened the door, wearing only a protective jock.
He gave me the once-over and asked:
"What the fuck do you want?"
His rudeness surprised me and I couldn't get a word out of my mouth. He gave me a smirk and called over his shoulder:
"Guys, we have a visitor. He's a mute."
General laughter.
"Well, bring him in, Shane. We wanna see him. Mutes are funny."
Shane stepped aside to let me in, and I entered the hot, cramped locker room. It was filled with scarcely clothed guys; some of them were naked. I tried to keep my eyes off their muscled bodies. The room reeked of sweat and deodorant.
Shane pushed me to the middle of the room.
"So? Try to speak dude."
"Well, hell-o-o guys---" My voice cracked between the first words of the sentence and the locker room exploded in laughter.
I felt my face turn beet-red.
What I didn't understand then was that when a whimpering sissy showed up in their sacred locker room it raised more than laughter. The testosterone-pumped young fighters saw prey and smelled fear. They were going to have fun with the pussy-boy who now awkwardly stood in the middle of their turf.
"Try again dude," someone suggested.
"I... came to pick up Casey's stuff," I managed to stutter.
A tall guy lounging on the bench laughed. I had met him with Casey once. He was Logan, a handsome and arrogant dude about my age with longish black hair that he kept tied in a man bun. He was sprawled on the bench naked, his legs spread wide, totally unashamed to expose his genitals to the frightened stranger now standing in front of him.
I saw that Logan kept his scrotum unshaved, unlike the smooth or closely trimmed fashion that was now mainstream among teenagers. His man-sized cock and low-hanging balls were surrounded by black hair, and the growth continued upwards as a thin love trail that ended right below his innie navel and washboard abs. He was like a magnet to my eyes, and I had to struggle to turn my gaze to the floor.
He spoke to me with a deep, manly voice.
"You came to pick up Casey's stuff? What are you, his bitch?" he asked and the other guys rewarded his punch line with laughter.
"Ha-ha, Casey sent his bitch to us!"
"No, no..." I started, looking down, but Logan interrupted me.
"Look at me when you are speaking to me."
I looked up to his scornful dark eyes.
"I... I'm a friend," I answered. It sounded like a whine.
"His friend? You look more like a bitch to me." More laughter.
"No, look, I'll just pick up his bag and take it to him."
After questioning me for several more minutes, Logan finally pointed at a pile of clothes on the bench next to him. A pair of black socks had been discarded carelessly on the floor.
"Well, why are you wasting our time then, bitch? That's Casey's shit. Start packing."
I started to stuff Casey's gear hastily into his bag. A wet towel, a sweaty t-shirt, a pair of sweaty socks, sweaty white compression boxers. A slimy mouth-piece, boxing gloves, ankle wraps, a sweaty red head band ... was it all there? No, there was a padded black jockstrap on the bench close to where Logan was sitting. I had seen it in Casey's room, so I picked it up between my fingers, careful not to touch Logan's bare thigh.
That was just what he had been waiting for. I was just about to drop the stinking groin set to the bag when his voice made me freeze.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, faggot?"
"What? I... I was just picking up Casey's..."
"Casey's? That's not Casey's jock. You were trying to steal my jock, you fucking homo."
"Gimme that." He grabbed the jock from my hand.
I felt like crying.
"I'm sorry Logan, it was a mistake."
But Logan wasn't going to let me off the hook.
"Sorry Logan," he mimicked with a girly voice, making everybody else but me laugh.
"Guys, can you believe this, this fucking little perv was trying to steal my dirty jock. I bet he planned to jack off sniffing it."
"Fuck what a pervert!"
"Eeeww, fucking homo!"
"Just punch the fag's face in, Logan!"
"Now what should we do with a jock-sniffing little faggot thief like you, dude?" Logan asked.
I tried to appeal to his reason.
"Please, it looked just like Casey's."
But Logan just laughed.
"You're Casey's bitch so you really should know what his jock looks like," he said and pulled another similar black jock set from behind his back where he had kept it hidden. It had even the same red logo on the pouch than Casey's jock. He threw it on the floor in front of me with a disgusted look on his face.
Then he spread his arms and looked around to the expecting young faces around him with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Guys, he doesn't know what Casey's jock looks like. Maybe he could recognize it better from the smell. Maybe we should teach him what Casey's jock smells like so he would recognize it next time. What do you think boys?"
A chorus of "yeahs" eroded in the locker room.
"Make him sniff it Logan," somebody shouted.
Logan turned to me and pointed at the jock at my feet.
"You heard them faggot. Pick it up and sniff it."
"No!" I heard myself say.
Logan sneered at me.
"No? You want us to kick you out to the sidewalk buck naked? Because that's what's gonna happen if you don't do as we say. It's a busy sidewalk, dude."
The room fell silent while everybody waited for my next move. Shane was standing close behind me, and I knew I couldn't escape. I looked around in despair, trying to find a friendly face.
Logan laughed.
"Looking for the coach, fag? He already left and told me to lock up. Pick up the fucking jock and take a good sniff, gay-boy."
I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I picked up the jock and looked at it. I could already feel the stink in my nose. It had been protecting Casey's sweaty genitals just a little while ago. Knowing him, it had probably never been washed.
A plastic cup was fixed inside the pouch. The inner side of the hard cup was covered with a web of some fluffy white textile. Some black straws of hair were stuck into the web; like Logan, Casey didn't shave or trim his pubes. I guess they considered it to be another proof of their manliness.
I brought the cup in front of my face and paused for a long time just for principle. Then I poked my nose inside the cup and took a quick deep breath through my nose.
"Snif!"
I got a little whiff of sweat and piss. But Logan wasn't satisfied.
"Awww, what the fuck was that? I told you take a good sniff. Try again!"
I couldn't keep back a sob. That didn't make the guys feel sorry for me, quite the contrary, because that was just what they had been hoping for.
"Awww, the fag is crying now haha! He wants to get back to his mommy!"
I wanted desperately to get out of that locker room, and I knew they wouldn't let me go until I really sniffed the jock. I took another sniff, this time a bit longer.
"Sniff!"
My audience cheered, but it still was not good enough for them.
I was just about to put the jock into Casey's bag when I felt a strong hand cover my hand from behind. The hand pressed the cup back on my face, this time painfully tight.
"Here, lemme help you fag," Shane said into my ear. I could feel his warm breath on my face and I smelled his sweat.
Shane kept the cup firmly pressed on my nose for a time that felt like an eternity, while the guys laughed and jeered. Somebody was taking a video from a close distance of my face. The leather padding of the jock covered my mouth, and the only way I could breathe was through the cup.
"Snifffff!"
The smell of Casey's young manhood was raw and powerful. Logan saw my eyes widen and laughed.
"That's right faggot. That's the smell of a man. You love it, don't you? Keep sniffing."
"Snifffff!"
I did as I was told a second time -- and a third, fourth and fifth time before Logan was satisfied.
"Enough. Now pack Casey's stuff and get the fuck outta here, faggot," he ordered.
I obeyed as quickly as I could, sobbing, and ran out of the cave of my tormentors, escorted by rowdy laughter, cruel comments and Shane's expertly launched, painful kick on my butt.
As I ran to my car I could see passers-by glance at my flushed, tear-smeared face with a puzzled look. I rushed into the car, locked the doors and buried my face in my hands.
Why did those guys treat me like that? I hadn't done anything to them. They had no right to humiliate me like that! And why did Casey let it happen?
The only thing I could be glad about was that I was wearing loose shorts. Nobody had noticed my boner when I stared at Logan's grinning face and felt Shane's hard, sweaty body pressing against mine while he held Casey's stinking jock on my face, and I smelled Casey's genital odor, and all the guys laughed and taunted me. My cock was still stiff and pulsing in my pants.
I felt something tickle my lips. I fished the item out with my finger. I looked at it. An inch-long string of curved black hair. Casey's pubic hair.
I looked around, making sure that all the tinted windows of the car were rolled up. Then I grabbed a couple of tissues from the glove compartment, took the jock out of Casey's bag and unzipped my pants.
I pressed the jock on my face again, this time voluntarily. The smell of Casey's scrotum filled my senses again, and I heard Logan's scornful voice inside my head.
"That's right faggot. That's the smell of a man. You love it, don't you? Keep sniffing."
I shot my load so fast that I didn't manage to catch it into the tissues. I stared at the cum that I had splattered generously all over my shorts and the car seat. I had just climaxed my own humiliation.
Want this story to continue? Then drop me a line: bencoolen1212@gmail.com