Sophomore Year

Sophomore Year 24

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Sophomore Year 24

Buck cranked up the car, threw it in gear and off we went, each deep in his own thoughts. I was getting more accustomed to Buck's sudden threats of spanking and once Captain Bill had explained to me the role that public ass whipping had played in Buck's own development, I found the threats a little less intimidating.

For example, I could even contemplate without panic the idea of Buck spanking my bare ass in front of Earl, at least as long as it was downstairs in the gym and not out in the front yard! And as long as I got to keep the jockstrap on. Surely Buck wouldn't strip that off me too!

"Don't know what you're having such a hissy fit about." Buck interrupted my thinking. "We're just runnin' a quick errand. It's not like you're naked or sumpin'. You got the goods covered, doncha?"

"Yessir," I answered meekly, adding, "at least sort of, I guess."

"Oh, you afraid somebody's gonna see you got meat between your legs? You think that's something to be ashamed of?"

"Uh, no, sir." Truth was, I had no idea how to respond to that question. Of course, I'd been ashamed of my body since puberty and did everything I could to hide it. But the decision to stay at Buck's was tied to my decision to overcome that shame and accept my body as it was.

After a few moments of silence, Buck's mood lightened, and he turned chatty. "So, how ya likin' the fit of that singlet?"

"Ummm, I like it. It's nice." I wasn't sure how to express my feelings about wearing this singlet.

"Earl sure seemed to like it."

I blushed, recalling the detailed inspection I'd undergone.

"Snug around the balls, ain't it? Jack always talks about how he loves the way it hugs his balls. Says it makes him chub."

I looked at Buck in wide-eyed disbelief. How could a boy openly confess something so intimate and embarrassing to an adult, much less his own father?

Sensing my incredulity, Buck insisted, "It's true. I mean, I know I've seen him more than once all chubbed up in that thing, `specially looking at himself in a mirror." He laughed for a moment, lost in memory, and then slyly looked over at me. "You startin' to chub up there too, Sailor?"

I burned red with embarrassment. "No, sir." And I instinctively covered my crotch with my hands.

"Hey!" Buck reacted quickly, "Hands behind the head! What you tryin' to hide? Gotta gun tucked in there?"

I did as I was told and raised my arms but kept my knees closed tight together out of modesty.

"Oh, is that your little schoolgirl pose there? Spread those knees, Sailor! Growin' boy's gonads need air to grow." I spread my knees apart as instructed but felt very uncomfortable.

"I don't know, lookin' pretty swole there, Sailor." Buck laughed, then to my further disbelief, he started gently stroking the inside of my nearest thigh. "This always gets Jack rock hard in about two seconds." He laughed. "Teenage hormones, y'know. Nothin' like `em."

Out of all the things that had put me in shock since meeting Buck less than 24 hours ago, this was probably the greatest. Nobody had ever touched me this way, with the exception of my uncle when he was trying to teach me how to flirt with girls.

On one hand, it was super exciting that someone was openly and admittedly trying to get me aroused. On the other, Buck was so calm about it, as though we were conducting a joint science experiment, you could almost think it was just a normal everyday occurrence.

Sure enough, my teenage hormones started to kick in and I could see an obvious swelling in the jock pouch. It was impossible to hide and, truth be told, looking at it objectively, without any shame or embarrassment, was kind of fascinating. I couldn't believe I was visibly getting a hard-on while riding in a car as a grown man looked on. But I felt surprisingly at ease, given the situation.

At that moment, Buck pulled off the road and up to a gas station pump. I panicked for a moment and looked at Buck. In a reassuring voice he said, "Just need to get some gas is all." I looked around terrified that an attendant would be approaching soon and see my condition. Sensing my worry, Buck assured me, "This is one of those new self-service places."

Relief flooded through me. This would give me a few minutes for the erection to soften. But Buck just kept looking at me without moving a muscle. Finally, he said, "So, you think the tank's gonna fill itself? Or you wanna go someplace else and pay more to have some butler do it for you?"

"Uh, no, sir." I answered, still a little confused.

"Then get the fuck outa the car and fill the damn tank." Buck's tone was stern.

I felt like I was in that nightmare everyone talks about where you're naked in front of a crowd of people. Only I had an erection to make it even worse. I couldn't believe this was really happening. I faced the car with my hands instinctively in front of my privates, and crab-walked to the pump. I removed the car's gas cap and reached to take the nozzle from the pump but, of course, the gas wouldn't flow until it had been paid for inside.

I crab-walked up to the driver's window. "Uh, sir, you have to pay inside first."

"Oh, right, thanks," and he leaned over to get his wallet. But instead of opening the door to get out, he pulled out a ten and handed it to me. "Here ya go. That oughta fill it."

"Oh, c'mon, sir!" I pleaded, "Please, can't you go in?"

"Me?" Buck reacted like it was a crazy idea. "See that sign on the door, `No shirt, no shoes, no service?' I can't go in; it's against the law."

"Yeah, but I'm hardly any better." I argued. "Can't we just go home and let me change first?"

"We could..." Buck acted like he was considering the possibility, "and y'know what else we could get while we're there?" he asked innocently.

"What's that, sir?"

"That pretty little pair of crusty panties you had in your mouth earlier. We could get those, and let you chew on `em the whole way, and while you're payin' inside and and while you're pumpin' out here. Would ya like that better, sweetheart?"

Buck had an amazing skill at sounding affectionate and cruel at the same time. "No, sir." I answered. "It's just that..."

Buck waved away my protest like a gnat. "It's probably just Bobby in there, he's a cool guy."

I looked around and was thankful that, despite the start of rush hour, nobody else was getting gas at the moment. Still feeling like I was in some sort of dream, I reached through the armhole of the singlet down to my crotch, set myself at 6 o'clock as best I could with a half-stiffy, and then gave myself a quick `cup and lift,' hoping to at least present a smoother, more rounded bulge.

I hurried across the parking lot to the station's front door with the ten-dollar bill in my hand. I cautiously stepped in and saw a guy in white coveralls at the register. He had a big mustache and shaggy hair and a friendly demeanor and seemed so absorbed in what he was looking at that hadn't heard me come in.

It seemed the perfect opportunity to turn and run. The last thing I felt like doing was walking towards this guy while half hard in this singlet. But I knew there was no choice so took a deep breath and stepped forward. At that he looked up and saw me.

"Hey!" he barked, and I stopped dead in my tracks, sure he was about to throw me out for lack of decency. Instead, he demanded, "Where the hell's my Penthouse?"

Confused, I started to apologize, but then he quickly followed with, "Oh, sorry, man, I coulda sworn you was Jack, that singlet and all. Look just like im for a sec. C'mon up. Yeah, dang, you steal that from him? Or win it off im in a poker game, more likely," he laughed. "That guy has won and lost that thing more times than I can count."

I slowly walked towards the counter apologizing for not being dressed decently, trying to explain that the singlet wasn't my idea. He quickly interrupted. "Shoot, I don't blame ya wearing it out. Looks damn good on ya. If I had something looked that good on me, you can bet I'd be wearing it, right here, even." I tried to picture this fellow working the register in a singlet.

"As it is, Dad makes us wear these monkey suits" and he played with the zipper of his coveralls, running it up and down. He zipped it low enough so I could tell there was no t-shirt underneath. I could see part of a tattoo on his chest, though. Back then, tattoos weren't nearly so common and really piqued my curiosity. I was too shy to ask him about it though. I noticed his name tag read `Bobby.'

"I don't mind," he continued, "y'know, easier than picking out something every morning, just pull this on. Gets kinda warm in summer, though. Can't stand wearing much under it." Despite a large fan running by a corner window, it was plenty warm inside the station, and this was September. I could only imagine how hot it would be in July or August.

"Like today, so warm, didn't put a shirt on and..." he leaned closer conspiratorially, "don't tell, ok? Thought the coolest thing would be my old team jockstrap, keep my backside in the breeze, y'know?" He laughed and pulled his zipper all the way down so I could see the top of his jockstrap. It looked like a Duke. It seemed unreal to be having this many conversations with strangers about jockstraps. How many guys in this town had fallen under Buck's influence?

"I figured you'd appreciate that since I can tell you got a nice `strap on yourself." And he gestured at my crotch. His remark caught me by surprise, and my first impulse was to cover my privates with my hands.

But I stopped myself, remembering Buck's lesson and deciding this would be a safe place to practice. I lifted my arms and locked my fingers behind my head and stood still. Buck was right, it did calm me down and made me feel much less fidgety. I found myself smiling at Bobby.

A look of what could only be described as happy admiration came over his face. He leaned forward with his elbows on the counter while his eyes travelled up and down my physique. It was a very new and slightly intoxicating sensation for me.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Y'know, I don't think I've ever seen that singlet worn with a `strap before." He looked straight at my crotch for a few moments, and then murmured, "Damn impressive."

I wasn't at all used to compliments, especially about my appearance, so my initial impulse was always to deny them or offer profuse thanks. Instead, channeling the new man that Buck was teaching me to be, I slowly lowered my right hand, still holding the ten-dollar bill, and looking Bobby in the eye, cupped it around my balls and said in my best Dirty Harry imitation, "Trust the pouch."

Rubbing the ten across my balls, I then set it on the counter and turned to saunter out.

"Hey," Bobby called, stopping me halfway. I turned back to face him. He was holding the bill under his nose. "Don't tell Jack this, but truth is, good as that singlet looks on him, I think it fits you even better!"

I gave him a quick wink and went out the door. I returned to the pump, with a new little strut in my step. After filling the tank, I got back in the car. Buck looked at my expression and asked, "So? Was that so bad?"

"No, sir." I almost laughed. "I was so scared I was gonna get yelled at for indecency cuz my dick was still kinda hard, but Bobby didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he was real nice about the singlet."

"Are you kidding?" Buck laughed, "That guy spends half his time behind the counter jacking off to titty magazines."

"No!" I was incredulous.

"Oh, yeah! He and Jack trade `em back and forth all the time. Matter o' fact," Buck went on, "one of my really good ones goes missin', I know chances are Bobby's got it and by the time I get it back, half the pages gonna be stuck together!" Buck laughed like this was the funniest thing.

My mind reeled as images flooded my imagination. These guys did not seem embarrassed or ashamed by anything. I sat back and tried to take it all in. Once my mind had settled a bit, I slyly spread my legs like Buck had instructed and waited to see if he was going to continue the erection experiment. But he seemed lost in thought about something else and in no time, we were pulling back into the driveway.

I jumped out of the car, relieved that my initial trial by fire of public exposure was over. Buck acted very cool, as though nothing unusual had taken place. "Guess you better get ready for classes," he said. "Save yourself some time and wear the singlet?" he asked, nodding towards my crotch.

In response I just shook my head and then ran upstairs to get dressed for class. I pulled off the singlet and started to take off the jockstrap as well, but then paused. I checked myself out in the mirror and did a few flexes. I thought I was looking pretty good, at least, what I could see amid Jack's crusted cum shots. I decided to wear the jockstrap for the rest of the day.

My usual jeans were still in the wash, so I reached into my bag for a pair of old denim cut-offs. They were a pair I didn't wear that much because I had cut them off shorter than intended. They weren't indecent by any stretch of the imagination, but I had meant for them to hit me just above the knee and these landed about halfway up my thigh, a little longer than tennis shorts. And every time they got washed, they seemed to get a little shorter.

In any case, I'd for sure seen guys wearing cut-offs lots shorter around campus. I decided to pull them on. The feel was different wearing a jockstrap since I could feel the slight abrasion of the denim on my ass cheeks. I did a quick squat just to try them out and was shocked by the sudden intimacy as the rear center seam brushed across my bare butthole. This was going to be an unusual day.

I ignored my usual baggy sweatshirt; instead, I pulled out the two T shirts I'd found in the dresser. The first was a white undershirt worn thin. I pulled it on. It was very snug. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was shocked to see that it was almost see-through. The darker circles of my nipples were visible through the fabric. I couldn't imagine wearing it out of the house though something about it intrigued me. I decided to store it somewhere so I could come back and try it on again when I wasn't in a hurry.

The second was a V neck T shirt in a plain light yellow. My mother used to tell me to avoid wearing yellow because it accentuated my olive skin, but I was now in the mindset of tossing old ways aside. I pulled it on. The shirt hugged my biceps and my pecs and made me look and feel more muscular. My nipples clearly jutted out. Two days ago, there was no way I would even dream of wearing such a shirt, but today, after everything that had happened, I was sort of in the mood.

While I was getting dressed, I could hear Buck on the phone with his son, telling him about me wearing his singlet. "Tell ya the truth," I heard him tease, "it might fit him better than it does you." They chatted a bit more. It sounded very good-humored and affectionate. Finally, I heard Buck say, "Ok, I'll tell him that." Then he laughed and hung up.

On my way out the door, Buck stopped me for a second. "Jack says he's glad his singlet fits you so good, he can't wait to see it on you, and you two can wrestle for it next time he's home." I laughed and waved goodbye, and then thought about Jack's message the whole way to campus.

All through class I was distracted. Instead of my nose in the textbook as usual, I was staring out the window, thinking over all that had happened in the past 24 hours. It was like the whole world had changed around me. Was I still even the same person?

"Are you with us today, Mr. Perez, is it?" (I went by my mom's last name.) The professor was explaining something at the board. It was the absolute first time that I'd ever been noticed in a college class. There'd even been times I'd wondered if I were invisible to the rest of the world.

In the hall after class, a guy I'd noticed before from the college wrestling team hit me on the arm and laughed, "Dude, you were really spaced there." Leaning in conspiratorially, he whispered, "Got that pussy on the brain, am I right?" He let out a guffaw and punching me on the arm, said, "Gonna have to tell me all about it, dude. And I mean all the gory details!"

His words had me in a state. He'd never noticed me before and now here he was, inviting me to talk about screwing girls. I was almost going to respond, "Actually, I was thinking about this singlet I found today," but instead just laughed and said, "Sure thing!" and headed off to my car.

I did wonder how I might strike up a conversation with him about singlets and jockstraps and other gear. I wasn't sure what it was I wanted to say, I just knew something was going on in my head that I didn't quite understand yet. Maybe a conversation with another wrestler would give me some more perspective on what had happened to me that morning.

From class I went to work and was still distracted. But I did notice that a lot of the guys seemed to take a second look at me. Like, when he saw me come in, the kitchen boss quipped, "Hey, Perez, you been working out or something? Lookin' kinda buff there, man."

The other kitchen crew chimed in. "Yeah, we'll have to save the heavy lifting for him, seein' as he's so built." "Hey, Tarzan, let's see ya flex a bit." I was unused to the attention but also enjoyed it a little. Later, when I was helping this one older guy get some stuff out of the walk-in freezer, he reached over and pinched my nipple—erect from the sudden cold—and teased, "Hey, better than my wife's!"

After the lunch crowd, the manager asked me to come out front and help move some tables around for the dinner shift. Then he asked me if I'd ever wanted to work the floor, like waiting tables or anything. "I think the ladies might like you," he added slyly, making me blush like crazy. This was indeed a strange new world.

A guy on the evening shift called in sick so they asked me if I could stay on until closing. I called Buck to let him know I wouldn't be back in time to help him out with his `buddies' in the gym that night.

"That's ok, Sailor. No problem." He laughed, "I'll see you make it up to me. Meanwhile, you were quite the hit at Bobby's gas station. He called to tell me you can stop by any time, and he'll give you the family discount. How `bout that? He don't even give that to me! But I think ya might have to be wearin' the singlet to get it."

I could not always tell when Buck was kidding or being serious. Or a little of both. But the idea that someone had noticed me, much less remembered me, and remembered me positively gave me a very warm feeling inside. I pictured returning to Sonny's in the singlet, and maybe even doing some flexes in front of him. Crazy stuff.

"Oh, and Earl came back by asking for ya. Askin' could he get a picture of you in that singlet. Told him ya weren't here, but Cap'n B. offered to take a couple of pictures for him. You up for that?

"Uhm, yeah, sure." I said, blushing. This was definitely the start of a whole new world for me.