I decided to take this in a different direction. The narrative conceit from the first 3 chapters is limiting. This chapter is written in the third person and takes place in between earlier chapters. I wanted to expand on something that was alluded to during therapy.
I hope you enjoy it. Please send me your feedback: jcrazyninety@gmail.com
Colin had been surprised when he found out Coach Anderson was taking over Remedials class. The previous supervisor, a geography teacher, was a pretty unremarkable person with no particular interest in athletics and low expectations of the class.
But through some twist of fate, they were now being taught by the most intimidating man Colin had ever known. Coach was impossibly tall and impossibly muscular. He sported a full beard and seemed to only speak in a thundering yell. Normally he would only work with the upper class, but maybe he drew the short straw this semester.
Colin was madly attracted to the man. He was in awe of him. Colin would do anything he was told. Although, truthfully, he knew he couldn't meet the man's expectations. But some force within him compelled him to try.
It didn't help that he was hard the entire time. It made doing the exercises basically impossible. And it was pretty humiliating too.
But Colin didn't care. Every class, he would listen in rapt attention as Coach laid out the exercises. And then he would put all his effort into them. He would usually fail. But it felt so good to try. Every session was a new chance to impress Coach, and test his own limits.
It wasn't just the exercises that got him worked up. Everything he was told to do, he just felt compelled. Whether Coach was asking him to rack the weights or hit the showers or pick up the discarded locker room clothes or refill his water flask. And every time, he felt more infatuated.
But it would leave him wildly, uncontrollably horny afterwards. He was just overflowing with sexual energy. Jerking off didn't seem to help. Something about Coach barking orders at him got him worked up something fierce.
Of course, when he failed, Coach would get mad. It was devastating when that happened. He would blush bright red in front of the entire group. But he would pick himself up and try again.
Every week the cycle repeated. Every time the sexual tension grew maddeningly more intense.
But Colin knew his feelings would never be reciprocated. There's no way a man like Coach would be interested in him. It was hard not to be frustrated. He wished he had someone he could talk to. But his therapist only saw him once every couple of weeks, and he spent most of the session under a trance.
Going under hypnosis sure felt amazing, it wasn't like anything Colin had experienced. But, well, it hadn't really fixed his growth problems. He was still the runt he had been when he started. Although he was more motivated in the gym, at least. But that probably couldn't be related. Could it?
It was an early afternoon. Coach Anderson was between classes, marking papers in his office. The school's standard issue plastic chair was bent out of shape under his weight.
Coach had been feeling good recently. The latest divorce procedures were going OK for a change. He had been seeing a therapist for a while about his anger issues. The guy had sounded like a charlatan but he offered his services for free so Coach decided to give it a go.
It seemed to be helping. He had stopped thinking about his wife so much. Life didn't seem to be so chaotic. He was getting things back under control. He'd even broken through a plateau at the gym. There was only one thing left really that bothered him.
That one kid in his Remedial class. That's the one they stuck the no-hopers in, the guys who just wanted to get their Phys Ed credit and go home. Coach couldn't stand those fuck ups. He had no idea why he had even volunteered to teach it. Anyway, this kid was the scrawniest of the bunch. Maybe 100lbs soaking wet.
Most of the kids obviously didn't want to be there. They would stand around and chat rather than do the exercises and honestly Coach was OK with that. But this guy - Colin - he seemed pretty motivated. The only problem was that he sucked at everything he tried.
He had no coordination, no strength, no flexibility. He would fling himself at the climbing rope and dangle from it. He would tremble out the worst squat reps Coach had ever seen. He couldn't throw a ball, or catch one for that matter. It was honestly god damn pathetic.
But something about watching this kid trying and failing at everything Coach threw at him... well, it was kind of funny. Even the other remedials would make fun of him. It was mostly behind his back, but you could tell he could hear their giggling because he would blush.
But mostly it just made Coach angry. How could one human being be this inept? This guy was a lost cause. But he kept coming back for more punishment.
One time, he nearly broke another student's leg when he tried to load a bar for bench press and accidentally pushed the barbell out of place. Coach had lost his cool and shouted at him. Colin started sobbing and Coach yelled at him to go home.
It took Coach a few minutes to calm himself down before trying to find Colin. He felt bad about giving the kid a hard time. Nobody had got hurt in the end. And Colin wasn't a fuck up on purpose. He figured the teen must still be changing so he headed to the locker room. As he approached, he heard a strange noise.
Quietly he crept into the room. He could feel his anger bubbling up again in his stomach. As he turned the corner, his fears were confirmed. Colin was jerking off furiously.
Coach had never been attracted to another man in his life. He thought of himself as straight as they come. But something about that moment lit a fire in Coach Anderson. At 6'7" he towered over the boy. Colin had jumped up in surprise, and his eye line just about reached Coach's nipples.
In his head Coach was furious. His first instinct was to smash Colin into the ground. It wouldn't exactly be difficult.
But his mind flashed what his therapist had told him. Take deep breaths and try to empathise. Colin was so small and inadequate. Of course he would also be sexually immature and impulsive. Coach was an exceptional person. Not everybody could meet his high standards. As an alpha male, he had a responsibility to help others achieve their potential. And everyone was good at something. It was just a matter of finding out what it was.
"Come to my office after class is over, boy. Wait for me there. We need to do something about... this."
Coach spent the rest of the day's classes erect, with a prominent bulge running most of the way down his thigh. The other kids were unusually quiet. Coach just smiled at them and patiently helped them with their exercise.
After remedials, Coach had a training session with the football squad. It was a good opportunity to work up a sweat ahead of the evening's entertainment. He had deliberately neglected to inform Colin that he was working late, who would be sitting in his office for over an hour, if he had followed Coach's instructions.
Sure enough, at 6:45 PM Coach sauntered into his office and the small teen was still there, waiting for him on his smartphone.
"Strip," was all Coach grunted.
Colin looked up and nearly dropped his phone. He was too shocked to respond.
"Come on, boy. I've seen it all. Don't be coy with me. I know what you are."
Still Colin hesitated. Rage filled Coach's head. Followed by a sensation of blissful relaxation.
He just needs guidance.
"Stand still."
Coach walked over to Colin. He reached down to Colin's waist. His strong hands guided the young man's t-shirt over his head and shoulders. Colin's boney upper body was exposed to the world.
Coach rested each of his large, calloused hands on Colin's shoulders. Each broad fist enveloped Colin's shoulder totally.
"Colin, you're so small."
Gently, he ran his large, rough hands down Colin's thin arms lingered on his small hands.
"So small and fragile... you are no use to a woman. What you need is a man to take care of you, and guide you, and give you purpose."
Coach felt strange and light headed and more aroused than he had ever thought possible. Reluctantly he lifted his hands off the delicious morsel in front of him.
"Take off my clothes, Colin."
With shaking hands, the teen pulled Coach's t-shirt up over his hairy, muscular midsection. Coach's huge, mature, manly chest protruded out over the rugged 6-pack. Colin was in awe at the size and strength of the older man's upper body. Lifting his arms in the air, Coach allowed the boy to pull the sweat soaked garment up along his bulging arms and over his head. The smell of Coach's sweaty pits washed over Colin. He moaned involuntarily.
Colin rested his small hands on Coach's barrel chest. Colin had never seen anything like it in person. He rand his hands over Coach's nipples and shivered. His own chest just seemed pathetic, a cruel imitation of Coach's meaty and powerful pecs.
Coach slowly flexed his arm, his bicep forming a veiny peak. It was almost larger than both of Colin's fists stacked on top of each other. Coach's virile scent was also prominently wafting over Colin.
"Don't stop now Colin. Take off my pants, too."
Trying to control his breathing, Colin slowly pulled down his Coach's sweatpants. His crotch and tree-trunk thighs were as hairy as the rest of him. Each thigh was bigger around than Colin's waist. The coach wore no underwear. Colin wailed in lust as he unveiled Coach's 10-inch monster cock.
Coach leaned into Colin's ear.
"Colin, some men have needs that women can't or won't fulfil. There are things my wife never did for me. I'm simply too big. But you... I can tell you lust for male power and size. So I will give you what you need."
"Turn around."
Coach yanked off Colin's shorts and underwear and gazed lovingly at the boy's beautiful butt. Despite being fairly skinny he still had some nice meat to his backside. Gently he parted the hairless cheeks and gazed at the boy's tasty-looking pink asshole - untouched and pristine.
Coach reached under his drawer and pulled out a bottle of lubricant. He squirted a little over his fat, sausage-like finger and gently prised open the tiny orifice before him.
Colin gasped. He had been practising fingering himself every chance he had for a few weeks now. He had even advanced to two fingers recently. But just one of Coach's fingers was as big as 3 of Colin's. It was a lot longer, too, so Colin was being probed deeper than ever before.
He wanted to beg Coach to stop. But he dared not say anything that might upset him. The thought that he was suffering for Coach made his small dick rock hard.
Coach knew it was impossible for Colin to take his cock comfortably. It might not be possible for him to take him at all... after all, this asshole was clinging to just one of his fingers.
No, Coach thought. Colins needs this right now. Coach would find a way. He would show Colin what he was capable of.
He squirted lube along his second fat finger. The boy's ass was surprisingly pliable and accommodated it reasonably quickly. But now Colin couldn't contain himself.
"Ohhh! Sir! Please..."
They were the first words he had spoken that evening, and the boy's wailing was music to Coach's ears.
He wrapped a beefy arm around the boy's chest. His huge, veined, hairy forearm pressed against the thin, smooth chest, pulling them closer together.
"Don't you trust your coach, Colin? No pain, no gain."
The two fingers wiggled against Colin's prostate. The teen wanted to scream in pleasure and pain.
Coach lined up a third lubed finger.
This one took more effort. Colin's anatomy put up more of a fight. But Coach was a man on a mission.
The moment the third finger penetrated the teen, he opened his mouth to scream. A large hairy hand covered his mouth. The boy writhed under Coach's body. It was sensory overload for Colin. It was too much. He was too much. Too much man for Colin.
Coach forced the gagged teen down on the desk. He would take it. He needed it. He started corkscrewing his fingers. Colin moaned. His struggling started to fade.
Coach kept working his fingers in and out. Colin melted on the table. The joy and bliss of submission and arousal numbed the pain of penetration and stretching.
Coach worked the hole like this for a few minutes. He relaxed his grip on Colin. The boy lay beneath him, prone, lifeless, accepting. Coach knew he had been right about Colin. This young man... this boy... his calling was to pleasure men like the Coach.
With his free hand, Coach lubricated his fat, drooling cock.
It was quite a bit wider than three of his fingers. There was no way the boy was adequately prepared. But he was running out of patience. And the boy's display of submission was driving him insane with a need to fuck.
Pulling out his fingers, he took a moment to admire the scene below him. Colin sprawled out beneath his huge body. His muscles extra pumped from the exertion of restraining Colin and penetrating him. Pecs heaving, arms swollen with blood. The gaping asshole in front of him - unable to close, and yet still so small compared to the python about to break in.
Coach reached for the boy's underwear. A small pair of grey briefs. They were drenched in precum. He must have been hard and leaking while he had been waiting. Good. Coach balled it up and gently fed into Colin's mouth. Then he wrapped his hand over Colin's face.
It was now or never.
Colin's hole resisted the blunt head at first. But with some amount of pressure it gave way.
Coach sighed in rapturous pleasure as his cock sank into Colin. The sensations were incredible. He realised his cock was slowly carving its way through Colin's guts. It was the most satisfying feeling in the world.
It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. All of the bullshit in Coach's life, it didn't matter. This was his element. Aggressive sexual domination of younger, less experienced submissives. It was the natural order of the world.
Beneath him, Colin screamed and screamed into Coach's fist. His trembling upper body tried to pull away with all its might. But his lower body betrayed him. His hips leant back into it, pushing the coach deeper. And his little cock was hard and leaking.
Coach grunted. He shoved his cock in deeper. More screaming. He shoved again. Almost there. With an almighty roar, coach bottomed out into Colin.
He paused a moment to catch his breath. His panting chest was damp with sweat and more vascular than he had ever seen it. Colin had lost the capacity to scream. He was was hyperventilating on the desk.
Gently the giant prised open the boy's mouth and removed the makeshift gag.
"How do you feel, boy?"
Colin lay there panting.
"It's too much... I can't take it..."
"Bullshit, boy. You did the hard part already. We can slow down from here."
Coach lifted the boy's torso and pulled him onto his lap. Now he could whisper sweet nothings into the boy's ear while his hole adjusted to Coach's mammoth cock.
"Nobody's ever taken it like you did, boy."
"You made Coach very, very proud today."
"You're a natural at taking my cock."
"Those other boys don't have anything on you, boy."
As Colin started to calm down, Coach started to gently wiggle Colin up and down in his lap. It felt amazing to rub Colin's guts along the huge cock. It felt good for Colin, too, who started to moan.
Before long Coach was rutting the gasping teenager. Bending him over his desk and deep dicking the boy. Colin was in pain, but it only heightened his pleasure.
In fact, Colin was in a state of hyper arousal. It felt like he was continuously orgasming as Coach expertly ground his prostrate on his huge weapon. His mind was blank with anything but the sensations emanating from his asshole. He moaned and drooled all over the Coach's desk.
Coach was having the time of his life. It was the ultimate power trip. The ultimate top dominating the littlest bottom. Driving the little slut into mindless zombie pleasure.
He started pulling Colin's hair. The boy just moaned. Coach started fucking roughly. Jamming his huge cock in and out of Colin, deliberately provoking a reaction. Tears welled up in Colin's eyes. But he didn't tell Coach to stop. He simply moaned as wave after wave of pleasure crested over him.
"Oh fuck," Coach moaned in a low voice. "I am nearly there, kid." He started thrusting rhythmically into the bleary eyed, fucked out twink underneath him. "Oh fuck."
Coach closed his eyes as he jackhammered his student. Shivering with pleasure, he unloaded the biggest load of his life into quivering boy underneath him.
"Oh my god."
Visions of Colin bent over. Colin swallowing his cock. Colin covered in his warm load.
It was like his orgasm renewed itself half way through. He kept firing sperm into the pretty teen. Was this what a multiple orgasm felt like? Whatever this was, he knew now he had been doing it wrong for years.
When his pleasure finally subsided, he groaned as reality slowly started to assert itself. He tried to catch his breath, but nearly lost his balance, staggering backwards. Colin yelped as the cock popped out of him roughly. Colin was soaked in Coach's sweat and his own orgasms. His face ran with tears and snot. He stank of sex and raunch.
Coach dimly looked around him. His eyes settled at the clock on the wall. "Oh, shit."
"Kid, I have to get home. I still have papers to mark." He looked at Colin sprawled over his desk, panting and still zoned out. "Jesus Christ. You need to clean up. Look, take this," Coach dropped a key onto the desk. "Use the shower, lock up when you're done."
"Oh, and be back here tomorrow at 6. Every night. Don't be late."