The Coach, the Jocks and the Locker Room Boy
The following story is fiction about an incompetent athletically high school youth who gets the better of the big jock and even the coach. The story contains scenes of spanking, strapping, shaving and gay sex. If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now. Please note that in this story, the narrator uses a lot of questionable stereotyping in a negative way. Such is the right of fictional characters. It would not be wise to believe all he says.
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The Coach, the Jocks and the Locker Room Boy
By
I was a total and complete klutz. Well, fortunately not in everything but athletically and, alas, not only was PE required to graduate, it was necessary to clock some sports time also. Coach Kingwell was stuck with me just as I was stuck with him and PE. The result except for that one PE period a week was that I spent a lot of time in the locker room. You would not believe how many towels I had to pick up after very messy teen jocks. Now there was a good side to this arrangement. I had very large buffet with lots and lots of great eye candy. Each and every day there were lots of guys who had to shower after exercising so as not to stink. Well, that gave me the opportunity to admire their beautiful, young bodies. Well, not all were beauties but I could choose the ones I liked for my fantasies.
Well, you surely figured out that I'm gay by now but what I need to tell you is that I like guys' butts for two things. First to spank, paddle and strap so as to turn them bright red like those of baboon bitches in heat. Second, once they are irresistibly erotically crimson to vigorously fuck. I don't care if they got big monsters (very rare) or little pricklets (more common then you would expect on the macho jocks I prefer) hanging in front for I'm strictly an ass man. Show me a red-hot male's muscular nates and I'll show you a steel-hard fuck rod that most men would give their eye teeth for as it is a full nine inches (twenty-three cm). The rest of me is a lot less impressive for I'm a skinny 5'7" (1.70 m) and barely 130 pounds (59 kg). What I like most is a powerful macho guy in good shape totally submitting to me like the weak, little pussy boys they know they are deep inside for I was (and still am) a true alpha male although I did not know that term back then.
At my school there were a few well known and supposedly straight macho jocks, such as Lofgren who was the captain of the varsity football team, that I found very attractive. Lofgren droped by my house after practice every Thursday. His teammates thought it so that I could help the big jock with math. Well, that was true but not the full and complete truth. For ninety minutes we did that and then we got to the real reason he was here. We reviewed his week and he confessed his misdeeds. I know he told me everything because I could tell if he was lying – I caught him a couple of times and after that he believed I could tell more than I really could. Then I decided what his punishment would be. Sometimes the paddle; sometimes the strap and sometimes my personal favorite, an OTK little boy spanking that truly humbled him.
This was how a typical spanking session went described in the more exciting present tense. Because he is more than a foot taller than I, standing a full 6'10" (2.08m), I order him strip himself while I sit on the bed. I pat my lap and he gets over it like a naughty little boy ordered by his Daddy. This way his weight is supported by the bed and my feet won't fall asleep from cutoff circulation from his large mass. He has a terrific hard muscular butt from all his sport training. It is nice and pale, since the sun has never seen it, and I caress it a bit while anticipating how I'm going to use it. "Lofgren you have been a very naughty boy and now you are going to get a good hard spanking." I lecture him. Then I give him a few hand spanks. These really don't make an impression on his rock hard quads but it is fun (although it could hurt my hand) before I pick up the short strap. That's a piece of leather a quarter inch (six mm) thick, two inches (five cm) wide and almost a foot (thirty cm) long. Each cut with that makes a real impression on my submissive jock and especially his butt. I give him about fifty cuts and savor how his butt is turning a beautiful bright red. He struggles not to cry because he is a jock and jocks don't cry even when they are little pussy boys inside.
Now is the time to fuck him. I get him on his back and I put his legs on my shoulders. After I slap a dab of lube on his butt hole, I ram my condom covered fuck rod deep into him. His grunt is music to my ears and I love to watch his face as he submits to me like one of the cunts that hang about him all the time. I fuck him hard and pounding his love nut with each stroke. It does not take long for both of us to cum.
I wipe his cum off his chest and make him lick my fingers clean. I pull out and empty the condom on his tackle and rub it in so that he must go home with my scent on him. He licks my hand clean as I kid him that maybe it will make him grow some because he is not even five inches (twelve cm) when hard. He gets far more release from me then from playing the macho jock with the cunts. Some day he will come out as the submissive bottom boy he is and be much happier.
* * * * * * * * * *
As great as it was dominating those big jocks who stood high in the school hierarchy they were neither with real power nor not quite men. I set my sights on a grown up version – Coach Kingwell. The Coach was a single guy who was almost thirty-years-old. My gaydar always picked up signals when he was about so I had definite suspicions about him. Of course, in his position, even more than a classroom teacher with the guys naked around him, he had to be extra careful to avoid having his career and life wreaked for indiscretions. I figured he would be well worth the extra effort required to make him one of my pussy boys.
The locker room at school is pretty much what you expect except that there is a small balcony with the coach's office and a storage room used for some equipment and towels. I was given a key to that room even though I was a student which is important detail as you will see. Once, the coach sent me to his (unlocked) office to get his keys and I learnt several important things. The first thing was that his office reeked of sex – raw male sex – just like my room does after I have company like Lofgren. The unusual feature is that it also has a window that looks out over the boys' showers. Surely that was intended as a safety precaution to permit monitoring. Finally, I compared his key with mine. It was the same except that two notches were deeper. It was an extremely useful datum.
I had a couple of copies made of my 'shed' key as the label over the school's "DO NOT COPY" read when I went to the locksmith. A little work with a file allowed me to modify it. One learns a lot from watching old crime movies when security was simpler such as making a clay impression of a key. The crusty towels I picked up in his office left no doubt that he was jerking off there. Now I was able to check his office at will and I noticed that the smell of sex was greatest after the varsity teams showered. I was sure that he was jerking off watching them. The problem I had to solve was how to use all this info to my advantage.
Spycams are both cheap and small now that we are in the twenty-first century. I got a couple and a drill. While he was out training the teams, I drilled a couple of holes and mounted the cameras. With an old laptop hidden in the back of the towel room, I recorded several hours worth of stuff over a week. Now that I had sufficient data I removed the cams and computer to prevent discovery and made some hot CD's. I not only had knowledge but proof and that meant I had potent power. The raw power to take charge. Just that thought gave me a woodie that took hours to satisfy.
* * * * * * * * * *
I sent Coach Kingwell the CD and a cover letter at his home. I assured him that everything was private and that he did not have to worry about this getting public. I even suggested that he enjoy being a star of his own show. I waited a few days to let the barbed hook set in deep before dropping by to reel him in. He was very surprised to see me on his door step and even more so that I wanted to talk to him. He suggested that at school would be better, but I demurred and insisted. I was able to convince him even without mentioning the CD which showed my dominance.
We were sitting in his family room when I dropped the bomb shell by saying I wanted to talk about his acting career in the adult film business. His jaw dropped. I give him credit for not making silly threats and just asking what I meant. I gave him my proposition direct and simple. "I think that you will be happier coaching rather than being in the porn business especially since they tend to want men with much bigger cocks than yours. So far only we two have seen that CD and we can keep it that way if I get your ass." There is nothing like raw blackmail to get someone's complete and undivided attention.
The Coach was not over joyed but knew what the conservative school board would say if they saw proof of a teacher masturbating in his office in his school office especially while watching students shower not to mention the local DA. I assured him that I was not interested in ruining his career nor in money but just in his very sexy ass. I was even over the age of consent so that would not be an issue. I knew that I had him when he asked what I meant by having his ass. I did my best to assure him that I was an honorable man and would not betray him. To clinch to deal, I promised that after four times, if he was unhappy about the arrangement, it would be over. I could do that because I had found that the big athletic guys actually like being bottoms to little fellows like me. I certainly didn't know why then and, even now, leave it to the shrinks to explain.
I was planning to use my heavy garrison belt but he opted for a paddle that he had from his fraternity days in college which he still kept hanging in plain view. (I did not find out until weeks latter that he had a fraternity 'big brother' who paddled and fucked him a lot and he got to like it.) After he got a towel and the paddle, he stripped and lay on the towel on the arm of his couch with his butt in perfect position. I was rock hard after seeing his bare butt for the first time, rather than in sweats, especially since he was surrendering it to me. It was like Lofgren's but more so since the Coach was older and had filled out. He was in great shape and could have easily broken me in two but he was as docile as a lamb being controlled by a sheep dog. Once Kingwell was in position, I got into place and started. The first few pops were relatively gentle as I had to learn how effective the paddle was. Then I put my all into the task. As I paddled, I lectured him about the evils and dangers of jerking off in his office. The man had one tough ass and it took a while to get it to the proper shade of red indicating that it was properly roasted, tenderized and ready to be plowed. I opened my jeans, pushed down my briefs and rolled the condom onto my already hard rod. Then I opened the lube packet I had brought and I covered my target with the goop, even pushing a couple of fingers in to do a through job before ramming my shaft deep into the Coach's tail. He was tighter than those young jocks I had had. Perhaps just more muscular or less used (at least recently). Great in either case. I made sure not to come until I felt him cum and then blasted a huge load into the condom. It was to my advantage that he liked this.
The Coach did not seem upset when I left and said that I would be back in a week. When I saw him at school the next day I asked him how he was. He admitted to having to be careful about sitting, but was otherwise OK.
I felt great however, and very pleased with myself. Most of my conquests were, as you would expect, high school jocks. I like big strong macho guys, bigger than myself, who surrender their butts to me. In many ways I was safe since they felt that no one would believe me that I spanked and fucked jocks like them. Although they were physically men according to Mother Nature, legally they were boys or at most youths. I had gotten a couple of college men but they were still in their teens. The Coach was a real man almost twice my age. A conquest worthy of the word. About the only sort of man I could think of that would be a more satisfying conquest would be lawman such as a sheriff in an old westerns or a special forces officer – say a real tough captain. Just thinking that makes me hard.
* * * * * * * * * *
I had decided that it would be best to keep a low profile and not try for any new pussy boys. It was great having Lofgren appear for his weekly spanking and fucking as anxious as a puppy wanting to play when he could easily take me apart. I was amused by his macho boosting to his teammates about his mostly imagined conquests of cunts. I knew the real truth (and that he knew I did) about what he really craved. Seeing the Coach was a trickier deal since there was not any reason for me to visit him. After a couple of times I he told me about his fraternity experiences and how his frat big brother paddled and fucked him all through college (long after he was finished pledging) and that he now craved that sort of submission. I provided him with that something special and shaved his crotch. Although he sometimes was shirtless in school and everyone knew that he was very harry, he never exposed his crotch or ass. When I made him look in the mirror the contrast between his hirsute torso and bald crotch totally convinced him that he was my little brother (inn the fraternity sense) rather than a man. This was something that he would be reminded of constantly throughout the day – each and every day.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lofgren was one of the most macho appearing guys at school and there were only a handful that I would have rated higher. First and foremost among them was the wrestling team captain Pittwood. I have to confess that I had fantasied about him a lot especially before I captured Lofgren but our paths did not cross for me to make a definitive move. Surprisingly, he made the move. He was a big strong aggressive guy and easily dominated everyone wherever he chose to go. I had to admire how he had less trouble than a cutting horse does with a calf when he cut me away from the other students to have a private chat with me. He was interested in getting my help and indicated that I had a reputation that impressed him. He refused to tell me what and where he had heard whatever and would only be vague about what sort of help he wished. I had my suspicions about what he wanted yet couldn't say.
I showed up at his place as scheduled and we were alone. It was only then that he admitted that had gotten off track and neither his father or his teachers were strong enough to do what they should and give him what he needed. He had heard that I was man enough. It was easy to get him to admit to needing discipline complete with CP. He realized that he needed to get much better grades to get a scholarship to college so he could continue to wrestle. Eventually, he broke down and admitted that he needed to be a little boy and made to do his school work and not date very much.
A little later, he was naked and laying over an exercise horse in his basement. Once he was in position, I tied him in place. One of the things he had told me earlier was that he wanted to be helpless. This was different than with most of the other guys, but I got a boost from this additional physical submission. I would have used my belt but a new tool for me was available. On the table next to the straps I used to tie him down there was a tawse. Although I did not know what it was called then, I recognized its function immediately. After a few cuts at Pittwood's bottom I saw how well it did the job and with less effort on my part. Since he was tied down, I took my time and watched as the red stripes formed on his tail. In a few minutes, I had broken this tough macho wrestler and he was whimpering and promising to be a good boy and all that sort of stuff because he could not help himself while before that catharsis he had been struggling against the straps that held him down. I think that he would have stopped me if he had been free. Once he reached this stage, it was safe to untie him as he was as docile as a puppy. Delightfully his butt was shining like a pair of well-polished Red Delicious apples and howling to be fucked. I let him down and stripped quickly. After rolling the rubber on my prong, I rubbed some lube on his butt hole and mounted him. I quickly penetrated him and enthusiastically fucked the cum out of him by banging hard on his prostate. This position made me very aware of our body size differences for my head barely came up to his neck and he was ever so broad.
I withdrew and laid next to him as I wanted to rest before getting up. I was surprised by Pittwood for he rolled over onto his side and slid down so that he could get to my still hard tool. He pulled off the condom and replaced it with his hot mouth. He did not stop with engulfing it but proceed to suck and lick my shaft. He kept chocking as he tried to engulf more and more of it. I resolved to teach him how to take all of it so that his nose would be buried in my pubes.
When I was satisfied, I stopped him. As I dressed, I told him that he had better be a good boy and that I would be watching him. He promised to be good and I left. After a few weeks, he did learn to deep throat me and, incidentally, his grades also improved. Need I say that I had a lot of fun with him until he graduated.
* * * * * * * * * *
There are stories I could tell about other jocks but they would be the same. My experience with Pittwood taught me that these jocks talk – at least to each other – a lot more than I thought. When are also pretty aggressive about going for sex and I've been approached by others. Many of these encounters are one-timers for many reasons which is just fine as I have a lot of tail to kept crimson and plowed. A dirty job but someone has to do it.
The End
© Copyright A.I.L. June 2, 2010
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