Chapter 3 - Defensive End
"Tweeeeeeeeeeeet" comes the nearby sound of Coach Hendricks' whistle, announcing another change in positions. Through my fog I hear Coach Hendricks calling out: "Hey Coach, you done getting your boys juiced?" From right above me I hear Coach Lynch's response: "Not quite, Coach. Bobby is almost charged. But I'll send him along now. Scotty still has some drills to do, so I'm keeping him."
I feel suspended in time standing there. Gradually I realize that, while Coach still has his hand on my butt, he has stopped squeezing. I glance over at Scott, looking past Coach's powerful pecs, which are at my eye level, Scott's too. Scott is still totally under Coach's control. He hasn't even opened his eyes.
"It's time, Bobby. You've still got to learn run support from the safety position, so I'll work with you more later, if there's time. And I'll finish this drill then, too," says Coach as he looks down at me. "But, Coach, . . ." I begin. "No buts about it, Bobby. Well, except one nice meaty one," he smirks while giving my butt another squeeze. I don't want to move, but then Coach orders me to. "Get to your next station, boy. Move it!" he commands and spanks me into moving.
As I run to my next station, my mind is whirling. What is going on? I had to hide my arousal after Coach Blackledge worked me over at center. Then after putting us through a grueling workout at safety, Coach Lynch gets Scott off right in front of me, and then starts to get me off. If that whistle hadn't blown, I would have succumbed just like Scott. Ironically, Scott looks content right now but I'm confused.
I enjoy this football camp, the competition and all this man-to-man contact. But I've never before gotten aroused by it. Coach Blackledge is a quarterback and so had to go up under me, so that's not really a surprise. But Coach Lynch-whew. He's mean, difficult to please and quick to punish. Yet Scott is totally in his power and I would have been too. So at my next station maybe I should try to keep a little distance from the Coach and can cool down a little.
What is my next station? Oh yeah, defensive end, which is right over here. Fortunately I'm not late this time. Okay, remember, work hard but keep some distance from the coach.
As I run up, I see John and Tom coming from different directions. Tom says: "Hey, guys. Hope this is as exciting as my last station. I was at fullback with Coach Rathman. Man, did he work me over. In more ways than one, if you know what I mean?!" "You too? I thought I was the only one," responds John, "I was just at center with Coach Blackledge. Man, was it hard! He said I had a nice feel for the position. Unfortunately we ran out of time before I could get completely pumped. So now I have some real energy to burn." Are they saying what I think they're saying? Tom who is married and has two kids, and John who got married just last year? Glancing at their projecting shorts, I think they must be.
Just then Coach Youngblood comes up saying, "Huddle up boys," which we promptly do. I'm opposite Coach Youngblood, who stands next to John and Tom in our small huddle. We all bend at the waist, with our hands on our thighs, in good huddle position. As we are bending, Coach Youngblood clamps his big right hand on Tom's butt, then lowers his big left hand on John's butt.
"You three boys will work together on this drill until the other coaches are ready. Normally we don't do three at a time, but I think I can handle y'all," chuckles Coach Youngblood as he gives Tom and John a couple of pats. "Yes, sir," sing the two men who would be boys. "First we'll do the weave, this time on the ground, then we'll work on some moves for rushing the passer," instructs Coach. "With three of you, one can be the offensive tackle while I work with the other on moves. The third guy gets a little break. Then you'll switch places."
"That'll be the first break we've had with any of the coaches. They're all so tough," says Tom. "Yeah, well I like to have a good time with my boys. Football is tough and hard-hitting, but it's also a whole lot of fun. You have to want to get in there, put your hands all over the other guys, drive them into the ground with the ball, make them do what they don't want to do. But you can also pick them up when the play's over and give them a pat of encouragement so they come back for more," explains Coach Youngblood. "After all, it's a game and it's fun to play."
As I listen and watch, I'm not getting any calmer. It's a good thing I'm not next to Coach Youngblood. The whole time he's talking, he's squeezing and patting their butts. I've got to be careful. If we continue to huddle up, I'll try to be opposite him. But I can't make it look like I'm dogging it.
Coach instructs us in the weave. We all lie flat on our stomachs, then John, who's in the center, rolls to the right, toward me. I push up, dive over him, and continuing rolling toward the left, toward Tom. When I reach Tom, he pushes up, dives over me, and rolls right toward John. Then we continue in a weave. Coach explains that the drill helps defensive players learn to avoid players on the ground coming toward them and to get up after being knocked down.
After completing one minute of the drill, we hear Coach yell, "Huddle up!" As we were drilling he moved away about twenty yards, so we run over to him. Tom and John race over as fast as they can. I don't even have to try to be slower, they move so quickly, and, naturally, get spots right next to Coach. They are rewarded with his strong hands on their round butts. Coach says, "Good job boys. Now, this time I want you to go twice as fast. But remember, going faster does not mean to be sloppier. Concentrate on your form and timing. You want to get out of the way only at the last second, so your opponent will miss you. Be careful not to telegraph your dodge. Now increase the tempo."
We race back over to the spot, get in our positions, and react when he says "now." As we are rolling and dodging each other, we hear Coach: "That's it, Johnny! Move! Get up and over, Bobby! Push, Tommy! C'mon, boys!" He offers a constant stream of instructions during the minute of the drill. Then he yells: "Huddle up!" and Tom and John take off again to get next to Coach. Tom is well put together, about 5'9", 170 lbs., nicely proportioned. John is the biggest camper at 5'11", 195 lbs., and well-muscled. From behind I can see his glutes and hamstrings ripple with power as he races over to Coach. As usual I am impressed with John's build. Of course, Coach towers over all of us at 6'6", with 270 lbs. of extremely well developed muscle, and, as such, dominates the space we're in.
"Now we're ready for some moves to get at the quarterback," says Coach. "Johnny, I'll work with you first. Go over to the yard marker and wait for me there," orders Coach as he sends John on his way with a firm pat on his muscular backside. "Tommy, you get to be an offensive tackle. Your job is to keep good position between Johnny and the quarterback and to react to his moves." "But Coach, I haven't been at tackle yet," responds Tommy. "It's alright, son, you'll do fine. Just keep your feet moving and try to react to Johnny's moves," encourages Coach as he wraps a thick, strong arm around Tom's shoulders, squeezing Tom into his powerful chest and shaking him a little. "Remember, the exercise is to learn defensive end moves, so we're working for Johnny now. Your turn'll be next. So get over to the hash mark and wait," orders Coach as he releases Tom and pushes him on his way with a firm pat to his butt. Grabbing me by the neck with his powerful hand, Coach says: "Bobby, you get to watch this time. Stand right over there and enjoy the break." "Yes, sir," I respond as I await the pat on my butt. Only it doesn't come.
The drilling has lessened my excitement, and my shorts are relaxed now, so I was looking forward to the contact. As I see Coach Youngblood instructing John, I wonder why didn't he pat me. Nothing comes to mind, unless he thinks I'm dogging it. But I don't see how. Tom and John are like two puppies, so eager for the contact that they don't care that their dicks are beating the rest of them back to the Coach. Even with the drill they both are too excited to hide it.
As I consider why Coach didn't give me a pat, or even a hug like he did with Tom, I hear yelling from the area right behind Coach Youngblood and John. It's Coach Lynch, who has Dave running an up and back while he's yelling at Bill and Tim, who are standing very small right in front of him. I hear Coach Lynch scream: "I told you to do six reps, Billy! And I told you to drop your butt and keep your weight in your legs, Timmy! Now, stand up straight, maggots!" Bill is 5'6", 150 lbs. and Tim is only 5'5", 140 lbs. Next to Coach Lynch they look like junior high school kids. Then, just as he did with Scott, Coach Lynch leans over, winds up, and gives Bill and Tim each a fierce spank. And, as with Scott, they each leap away from the spank and go right up over Coach's shoulders. Their legs don't even hang down as far as his waist, and their little upturned butts are completely covered each time he gives them a spank. First he spanks Bill, then Tim, rotating each a little bit when he spanks the other with his opposite hand.
Mesmerized I watch as Coach Lynch delivers five spanks to each. Then he puts one hand on each butt, leans forward so they slide off his shoulders, holds them in mid-air sitting in his hands as he stops to yell at Dave to do another three reps, and finally lets their feet touch the ground. They are both fighting tears from the fierceness of their punishment, and Coach Lynch brings them in to his side to bury their faces in to his side and chest. Their heads are level with his arm pits. In spite of their tears, each one is fully erect, with their shorts tenting in front like a circus tent.
Just then Coach Youngblood calls me over to take John's place. "Did you see what I had Johnny do?" he asks. "Uh, no sir," I mumble. "What's the matter with you, son? I've been hearing good things about you. But you seem distracted. What's going on? Are you tired?" asks Coach. "No, sir!" I answer. "Well, what then?" I don't know how to answer this. I want to say: "I want you to be physical with me, to put your arm around me, and to pat my butt after each and every play, to show you care, that I'm important to you. But I can't ask for it-I mean, how could I ask for that kind of contact? Especially when I think I'd get aroused by such contact. I'm so confused, because it seems like so many other guys are getting off on the contact, and aren't afraid of lining up for the coaches to work them over, and aren't even afraid to show their arousal. But I'm afraid, so I avoid getting close to you, to the very thing I want." But, not willing to share my thoughts or knowing how, I reply: "I don't know, sir. But I'll try harder."
With a knowing look, Coach Youngblood quietly orders: "Come here, Bobby," and motions me by his side. He drops his heavy arm over my shoulders and says: "It's okay, son. You see me give the other boys some love pats and you want some too. Right?" As I turn my face into his chest, I smell his after shave. What a man-even after all day he still smells good. But I can't answer his question, so I just nod. "Yeah, none of the boys at this camp can resist. No point in trying," he says. Then, after a wonderful minute, he says: "Here come the other coaches. Wait here while I send Johnny and Tommy on their way. Then I'll work with you." As he is speaking he reaches down and pats me firm and full on my butt. Suddenly I can no longer hear him. My mind is occupied by the electricity I'm feeling from his super charged hand as he cups up and under my butt. As he pats me the third time, I realize that he is the one who had given me such encouragement on the sidelines earlier.
Coach lines up John and Tom to give them final instructions. He moves beside Tom first, tells him he is to go to Coach Hampton while leaning down to pat his butt continuously, and then rubs the back of his head. Tom is fully tented and charged, racing over to Coach Hampton. Coach Hampton, looking down from his imposing 6'6" at Tom's flag, immediately orders Tom to do jumping jacks. Only, when Tom jumps to spread his legs wide and his arms overhead, Coach Hampton pushes down on Tom's shorts covered dick. From yards away we can hear Tom grunt, then call out the number when he jumps his legs back together. "Give me fifty, boy!" Coach orders, and Tom counts out the numbers. Each time he jumps out, Coach pushes down with his massive right hand on Tom's dick. With each jump Tom's grunts grow louder and his number count grows weaker. ", ONE, , TWo, , THree, . . . , twenty-seven, , twenty-eight, , twenty-nine, . . . , forty-seven, , forty-eight, , forty-nine, , fifty.," finishes Tom panting, with his eyes closed. "Good boy, Tommy," says Coach Hampton as he puts his left hand across Tom's chest, covering most of it, holding him steady and gives one final push down with his right hand. Tom then starts to jerk. Coach Hampton continues to pump slowly up and down on Tom's dick, holding Tom completely in his control.
While Tom is doing jumping jacks, Coach Youngblood moves beside John, giving John his final pats and telling him he is to work with Coach Hennings. Just like Tom, John is fully tented and charged as he races over to Coach Hennings. At 6'7", 305 lbs. Coach Hennings looks like he's wearing pads underneath his tee-shirt and shorts, he's so muscular. He orders: "Run toward the quarterback, Johnny, I'll be holding you from behind so you have to fight hard." As John gets down into a three point stance, Coach Hennings reaches down and grabs a paw full of John's shorts at the waistband, then smacks John's upraised butt for him to begin. John tries to pull away, toward the imaginary quarterback, but Coach Hennings' grip is impossible for him to break. Suddenly, Coach jerks John back, which causes the shorts to pull tight against John full dick in front and ride up over his muscular glutes in the back. Coach smacks his butt and tells him to keep going, to get the quarterback. John moves three steps forward, then Coach Hennings yanks him back and smacks his butt to begin again. Rhythmically Coach plays yo-yo with John. Finally, after about the twentieth time, when Coach smacks John now fully exposed butt meat (with all the pulling John's shorts look like a thong), John doesn't run forward. Coach smacks him again, causing John to jerk hard, and then he continues to jerk as Coach rhythmically smacks his butt, while still holding his shorts at the waist in one hand. "Good boy, Johnny. I knew you could do it," says Coach Hennings.
As I watch this, I feel two massive hands cup my butt from behind. Then Coach Youngblood begins to pat my butt in time with Coach Hampton and Hennings. My vision becomes unclear as I am enveloped in the sensation and rhythm. Finally through a fog I see that Coach Hampton pushes down and Tom gives in, then Coach Hennings has John hung out by his shorts. In my ear Coach Youngblood says, "Come on, Bobby."
End of Chapter 3