I seem to be having a chapter-a-day productivity attack. ;-) Hope you are all enjoying the results. What I'm doing here is taking themes that I enjoy and writing a chapter on each; spanking, showering, shaving and who knows what else. Thanks to those who have written, encourging me, and I'd really like to hear from the rest of you. For those of you wondering, the --- EOF--- at the end of my posts simply means "End Of File" and indicates that you've received the entire post.
This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be used without his express permission. Private persons and no others are given permission to have one (1) electronic and/or one (1) printed copy of this work. ASSGM and Nifty are given permission to archive this work.
All the usual disclaimers that are usual apply here. This is a work of fiction involving sex acts between consenting persons of various conditions of life. If you can't handle that or if you are not of the legal age or mindset, go no further but remove this material from your possession forthwith.
If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story. I'd really like to hear from some of you with either positive or negative comments. I have no idea really if I'm bringing any of you pleasure or what it is you'd like me to write about. I only hear from a few people on each story and that's not much feedback for all the work I put into writing these. I'd really like to hear from you so I'll have some idea how I'm doing. Thanks.
I used two returns between paragraphs to simplify formatting for you.
Try to keep in mind that while 42 is the meaning of life, it is not the only possible solution. Jon
Chapter 3
Learning
Thursday night and Friday were the hardest days I could remember. Not only was I having continuous fantasies of Coach and all the naked athletes I'd seen, but I'd been beating off at least twice a day since I was twelve. No way was I going to go back on my word to Coach, but my dick seemed to have made up it's tiny little single-track mind to make my life as miserable as possible. Mom noticed that something was wrong and asked me what was bothering me. I just said that my new coach had given me some things to think about and she accepted that. She had to leave on a business trip Friday evening and wouldn't be back until Wednesday. I told her that Coach had some special practice set up for the week-end and not to worry if I didn't answer the phone. She just kissed me on the cheek and told me that I was grown now and that she trusted me totally and that I should have a good time and not work too hard. I drove her to the airport and then spent the most frustrating Friday evening I've ever had.
I woke up early and blearily looked at my alarm clock with one rheumy eye. CHRIST! It was already a quarter to six!!! SHIT! I'd forgotten to set the alarm clock. Knowing I was in deep shit, I jumped out of bed and pulled on the first clothes I found and roared out of the house without eating or brushing my teeth or anything. Coach was waiting for me when I got to the gym, sweating and out of breath. He didn't look very happy. He looked me up and down and then told me to get stripped down and then come to his office. I hung my head and headed for my locker, knowing that I'd let Coach down and that he wasn't too thrilled with me. I stripped down butt naked as quickly as I could, just throwing my clothes into my locker and heading for the office. Coach was sitting behind his desk when I knocked on the open door.
"I thought you wanted to be on this team."
"Yes, Sir. I do!"
"I thought you said you were going to pay attention to me."
I felt like crying. I just knew that he was going to tell me to leave and never come back. "I meant too, Sir. I really did."
"Then why were you late this morning?"
Hanging my head. Embarrassed. Knowing that I really didn't have a valid excuse, I mumbled, "I forgot to set my alarm clock."
"What? Speak up so I can hear you, Boy."
"I forgot to set my alarm clock, Sir."
"So me and my training program really aren't important to you, is that it?"
"Oh, no, Sir. I meant to be here on time. I just forgot to change the time on my alarm clock."
"So your word is worthless."
I hung my head, tears leaking down my cheeks. I knew that I'd screwed up, big time, and deserved whatever fate Coach decided for me.
"Look at me, Boy."
I looked up, but all I could see was blurred outlines through my tears.
"Is your word worthless?"
I shook my head 'No'. "No, Sir! I meant to be here on time. I just forgot to set the alarm."
"Well, let's see if we can't help your memory." With that, Coach swiveled his office chair around from behind his desk and exposed his naked lap to me. I knew without asking what was expected. Really crying then, knowing what was coming, I took a couple of hesitant steps and gingerly laid myself down across Coach's lap. He adjusted my position a bit and laid his arm across the small of my back again. "Let's see if we can't improve the blood flow to your brain to help your memory."
I think Coach was really angry with me because he didn't warm my ass up or anything like that. He just immediately went into a hard spanking that didn't stop until my ass was burning hot and bright red. There was a small puddle on the floor where my tears had fallen and another on coaches leg where I'd busted the nut I'd been holding since Coach told me to. His spanking got even harder after that and he chastised me for cumming when he hadn't told me I could.
Coach finally let me up and told me to go stand with my nose in the corner until he made a decision. I did as I was told and had to force myself to keep my hands off of my aching ass. I could feel Coach's eyes on me and tried to stand as still as I could.
"Do you want to be one of my 'Special Boys', Wilkins?"
"Yes, Sir. I really do, Coach."
"Do you have any problem being naked around me?"
"No, Sir. I like it." I ventured, which was nothing more than the truth."
"Do you have any problem with me spanking you? Disciplining you however I think best?"
"No, Sir." I said in a small voice.
"Do you like it when I discipline you?"
In a really small, quiet voice, almost inaudible, I said, "Yes, Sir. I do."
"Okay! We'll leave it at that for now. Let's go see what other trouble you've gotten yourself into."
I heard the chair creak and I heard Coach walking across the floor. I walked out of the corner and followed Coach out across the gym to the dressing area where my locker was. He stopped in front of my locker and said, "Open it."
I did, and Coach looked disapprovingly at my clothes piled in the bottom of my locker. Then he felt of my hair and smelled my breath.
"Don't you take care of your stuff and yourself? Your clothes are going to be all wrinkled up, your hair is a mess and your breath stinks."
"I'm sorry, Sir. I was trying to hurry up."
"You were already in trouble for being late. Do you think that another few minutes to brush your teeth and hang up your clothes properly was going to make much difference?"
"I don't know, Sir. I guess I just didn't think."
"More thinking trouble, huh?" And with that coach sat down on the board bench that ran between the two rows of lockers and patted his lap. I knew what that meant, but didn't know if I could handle another spanking so soon after my last one.
"Please, Coach. I'm sorry. I won't forget again."
Coach reached up and slapped my ass. "I know you won't. And I intend to make sure. Now assume the position."
Reluctantly, I laid myself back down across Coach's lap. I could feel the warmth of his belly against my side and his legs and pubic patch pushing against my belly. I felt him adjust my position and then felt the warmth and security of his arm across my back. "Are you ready?" he asked.
I nodded my head and said, "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."
Coach really let me know how unhappy he was with me that time. Even moreso when I came against his leg two more times without his permission. The first one was my fault, but the second was caused by his erection rubbing against my belly and I really couldn't control it. Coach spanked me extra hard anyway. When he got done blistering my bottom he just dumped me on the floor as he stood up. I looked up his long legs but all I could see was a shining filament of silver pre-cum spinning it's way towards me from his shrouded protrusion.
"Get your clothes put away properly and go to the bathroom and wash out your mouth with soap. Then come see me in the laundry room." With that he turned and walked away and the thread of his sexuality whipped off away from me and disappeared.
I laid there for a few minutes, catching my breath and appreciating the coolness of the cement floor against my burning ass. Knowing that, no matter what it took, I wanted to be Coach's boy, I got up and carefully hung up my clothes and then went to the mens room and thoroughly washed out my mouth with the harsh and foul tasting liquid soap from the wall dispenser next to the sink.
It wasn't too difficult to figure out where the laundry room was and I was soon standing in the middle of a room filled with commercial washers and dryers, dirty towels and jockstraps and the heady smell of healthy male body odors. Coach showed me how to run the washers and dryers and how much soap to use and then told me that he didn't want to see me again until I had the room cleaned up.
For the next four hours I worked non-stop washing and drying and folding and properly putting away the roomful of dirty gym equipment. It was hot and smelly work, and I sweat like a pig even if I was totally naked. I also got really turned on by the smell of used jock straps and trying to guess who belonged to which pubic hairs. I even got a plastic lunch bag and started a collection of pubic hairs from all the jocks I was washing. When I finally got done I was stinky and sweaty and figured that maybe I'd better take a quick shower before going to tell Coach I was done.
The cool water felt great, especially on my still sore butt. I decided to not dirty one of the towels I'd just gotten done washing and folding so neatly. I shook my head to get most of the water out of my hair and used my hands to skim the water off of my body and did some jumping jacks to speed my drying. The jumping jacks felt weird because I still had an erection, but I decided that Coach had already seen me hard and that if I couldn't beat off to get rid of the problem, then Coach would just get to see it thumping my belly. I went to Coach's office and knocked on the open door. He told me to come in and I told him I was done. He looked me over and sniffed the air and then smiled approvingly at me. "Let's go check it out." was all he said.
Coach stood in the middle of the room with me alongside of him and looked around approvingly. He idly rubbed his hand up and down over my nearest buttcheek and then patted my ass and said, "Real good, Boy. I'm proud of you, Son."
I don't know why, but I burst out in tears. Coach just gathered me up in his arms and held me against his chest and let me cry. When I finally quieted down and was just feeling foolish again, Coach gave me a big hug. "Come on, Son. Let's go get something to eat."
I followed along behind Coach just like a puppy. Somehow, it really meant a lot and made me feel good when he called me 'Son'.
Coach pointed out a picnic basket when we got into his office and had me carry it to the far side of the cinderblock pool enclosure where their was a couple of nice trees and a patch of neatly kept lawn. Coach spread out an old blanket and had the best picnic ever in my whole life. Cold fried chicken and potato salad and fruit and a bottle of sparkling cider that the coach had kept in the small refrigerator in his office. I found out later that Coach's grandfather made the cider and Coach opened a bottle only for very special occasions. We talked during lunch and I told Coach stuff about my life that I'd never told anyone else, ever. Stuff about me and my feelings and about my Dad. Coach, for his part, was a very good listener and he told me what he expected from one of 'His Boys'. I felt very special, thinking that the Coach had special plans for me.
We cleaned up the mess from lunch and I rolled over on the soft grass and laid belly down in the sun, resting my head on my forearms and immediately starting to doze from the warm sun and full belly. Coach came over and sat down beside me and started rubbing sun-tan lotion all over the white stripe that showed above and below my already sun bronzed skin. "Don't want you getting sunburned." was all he said as he worked the greasy lotion into my buttcheeks and deep into my crack. I just laid there drowsily enjoying Coach's ministrations as he spread the oil up over my back and neck and down my legs, even coating my feet, which tickled, but in a really nice way. I complied when Coach started to roll me over and he began by spreading oil carefully all over my face and neck. Coach spread the oil across my chest, taking the time to tease the little nubbins that darkened my pectorals. That gave me about half a woody, which swelled into a full woody as Coach worked my belly muscles. I could feel his hands sliding under my erection to spread the oil on my lower belly, but didn't let it bother me. I just lay there in my semi-stupor enjoying the feeling of having a grown man touch me.
Coach did the front of my legs and the tops of my feet and then worked his way back up to my groin. I automatically spread my legs when Coach started to carefully spread oil on my genitals. It felt so good I couldn't keep myself from moaning. "Go ahead and cum if you need to, Son. You've earned it today." I just laid there, half asleep and loving the feeling of Coach touching me. Running his hands through the grooves where my legs joined and pulling at my swollen balls. His oil-slick hands stroking my naked erection felt so good that I started hunching against his hands in sort of a dream-state erotic fantasy. I remember having a massive eruption all over myself and the feeling of Coach's hands rubbing the cum into my skin as I dozed off, happy in the hot sun.
I woke up about an hour later and Coach asked me how I felt. I knew it wasn't just a polite question, so I took inventory and realized that I felt better than I had ever since my Dad died. I blushed and then, full of youthful energy and enthusiasm, grinned sheepishly and said that I felt fantastic. Grinning back, Coach got up and, dusting off his hands and behind, said, "Great! Let's get started!"
I needed every bit of youthful energy I had because Coach put me through the hardest workout I'd ever had. Lap after lap and starting dives by the hundreds. Coach would hold my shoulder or put his arm around me or cup my ass in his hand when he talked to me and told me what he wanted me to do. He had a thousand ways of slapping my ass to emphasize what he was saying or to make sure I understood what he was saying or to make sure that I was listening --- and I loved the feeling of him touching me and I loved the feeling of having a man like this give me his undivided attention.
When I was so tired that I was trembling, Coach finally said that was enough and sent me to the showers. I was just getting good and wet and reaching for the soap when Coach walked into the showers and put some stuff on the shelf next to my shower. Coach joined me in the shower and handed me the soap. I got to wash him first this time. He let me wash him real good all over, and even let me give him a hard-on and feel him up real good before he took the soap from me and started washing me just as thoroughly as he had the first time. I loved the feelings, even, or maybe especially, when he let a finger slip partway into my butt hole and cleaned it out good. When we were done rinsing each other off and playfully tickling and teasing each other, Coach took me in his arms and tucked my head under his chin. We just stood there holding each other for a while and then Coach asked me, in a voice that let me know the question was very serious, if I truly was willing to be one of 'His Boys'. Kind of huskily, I said, "Yes, Coach. More than anything!" He just gave me a huge hug that I tried to return with all the strength in my body. I felt fantastic.
Coach finally broke our embrace and took a can of shaving foam from the shower shelf. Without a word he coated my face and neck and then took a straight razor and shaved me closer than I'd ever been shaved before. My face felt totally smooth when he was done. As I was feeling my face, Coach started spreading foam across my chest. He removed all the fine down from my plated chest, being especially careful around my nipples, pinching them between his thumb and forefinger to pull them out from my chest so he could shave the skin glossy smooth without cutting me. That gave me instant wood, but I refused to be embarrassed about it and just enjoyed the feeling. In my chest as well as my cock.
Coach did my arms next, even shaving the hair from the backs of my hands. That felt great, but I'm really ticklish and when he started to shave my armpits he had to swat my ass a few times to get me to hold, just barely, still. I didn't even think to object to what he was doing. He had me turn around and arch my back so he could remove the few small hairs there before turning me around again so he could do my belly. He squared off the top of my pubic patch, even removing the almost invisible 'trail to glory' that I'd finally started growing. Oh, well, it was just a few hairs.
Coach got down on his knees and put the can of shaving foam on the floor as he began to denude my thick swimmers legs. I couldn't believe how good that felt and my dick started drooling, which coach ignored. When his hands couldn't feel any more stubble on my legs he had me turn around and he shaved my butt completely smooth. Then he had me bend over and touch the floor with my fingertips so that he could clean out all the hairs from my asscrack. I couldn't keep my butthole from contracting every time he got the straight razor near it, and my butt took a few good whacks on it's pristine smoothness as he tried to get me to stop doing that. My crack was finally as completely hairless as his perfectionistic fingers could determine and Coach felt my whole crack one last time, even slipping a finger past my puckering portal and giving me a few teasing jabs with his intruding digit. My cock swelled up hugely and I thought I was going to cum, but luckily, after only a couple of jabs, coach pulled his finger back out of me and turned me around.
I watched Coach intently, making sure he didn't make ANY mistakes as he shaved my balls completely hair less. When he had my balls done to a tee, Coach ran his fingers through my pride and joy, my pubic patch. The next thing I knew he was mixing my hair with shaving foam. I reached down and covered his hand with mine, trying to get him to stop, but he just pushed my hand aside and said, "Relax, Boy." I stood there, just about ready to bawl as I watched him shave away the proof of my manhood, leaving me as hairless as when I was nine years old.
As hairless as when I was nine, before my Daddy died! I burst out in tears and Coach gathered me into his strong arms, holding me tightly and letting me cry. "Now you're one of my boys, Son." was all he said.
---EOF---