Training a Jock Slut 15
Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. It contains sexual acts between males who are of legal consent age. There is humiliation, but rest assured, all parties eventually enjoy it. If this subject matter is offensive to you, please stop reading. This story is the property of the author and may not be used anywhere else without consent.
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I am sorry for how long it took to get this chapter out. I have been very busy with work. And unfortunately, I am finding myself unable to continue this series. I will likely take a break for a few months before I start writing again. I would like to thank everyone who has supported me and given me wonderful feedback. I am so glad you have liked my story so far. And hopefully, you will all still be there when I return J
Jax Cooper has helped me edit and make contributions to this story yet again. Please check out his work, he's a really fantastic writer!
Let me know if you liked it by emailing me at philip.faras@gmail.com. I appreciate all your emails. I realize I have been behind in replying. I will reply to as many as I can soon.
Training a Jock Slut – Chapter 15
The Wrestling Meet
The Plainsville wrestling team listened intently as Coach gave each of them some final tips. They were only a short while away from starting their matches.
Brody grimaced as his throbbing hole ached within him. Luckily, everyone seemed none the wiser about the string of double-pronged anal assaults he had endured last night. He almost had a heart-attack when the motel clerk had winked at him during checkout. Luckily, Coach was preoccupied with paying the bill. The blond jock willed himself to stop mentally replaying the debasement he'd suffered hours earlier and focused on what Coach was saying.
"Well, I guess that was all I needed to say. Just do your best and the awards will follow. Understand, boys?"
"SIR, YES SIR!"
Coach smiled at his team's enthusiasm. He opened the box in his arms and fished out several wrestling singlets.
"What do you guys think about trying on some new uniforms? Navy blue for the freshmen and gold for the seniors."
The younger boys started chattering between themselves excitedly as they grabbed their uniforms. Jimmy and Brody followed suit and grabbed their new uniforms as well.
The disappointment from the senior boys hung heavy in the air. They had been wrestling long enough to understand what the colour of their new uniforms meant. The pale gold lycra would do nothing to hide their private bits. If it was a darker colour, the outline of their cocks would be barely discernible. But instead, they would be displaying their junk for everyone to see. And since this was an official contest, wearing jockstraps underneath were out of the question.
Jimmy was bewildered. Surely Coach knew better. Brody, on the other hand, just hung his head. He expected nothing less from Coach at this point. The older man would never pass up the chance to publicly humiliate his boy-whore.
Jimmy attempted to question the new uniforms before he was cut off by Coach's booming voice.
"Okay, hurry up boys. Weigh-ins start in 10 minutes. Jimmy, head down the hall when you're ready. You're first."
Coach immediately darted out of the locker room, ostensibly to afford the boys privacy to change into their singlets, but really because he wanted to avoid any questioning from Jimmy.
As Brody had suspected, Coach had chosen the shimmery gold colour on purpose. He'd also selected a cheap, thin fabric which, in combination with the pale colour, would leave nothing of the wearer's package to the imagination. The price point was low enough that the na•ve school authorities had signed off on Coach's recommendation without a second thought.
Of course, Coach's target for these machinations was his slut Brody, while Jimmy was just an innocent casualty. But Coach didn't mind in the least. In fact, he welcomed the opportunity to double the number of attractive teen jocks embarrassed for his titillation.
The boys watched their coach leave before they stripped naked and put on their uniforms.
Brody felt Jimmy's eyes hover over his bare body. He was still furious with Jimmy over his `prank' the night before.
"What are you looking at, fag?" Brody growled at his rival.
Jimmy sneered at Brody's alpha demeanor. What a fucking joke Brody was, swaggering about like he was a big man when he was the REAL fag. He made a mental note of the insult Brody had thrown at him. He would not forget it - that was for sure. But he was content to bide his time. He would take the queer down eventually, and he'd enjoy every moment of it. For now he merely scowled back at Brody and proceeded to pull on the thin singlet.
Once the boys squeezed into their uniforms, it was abundantly clear that Jimmy and Brody had grabbed each other's sizes by mistake. Jimmy's outfit was relatively tight but there was plenty of room in his crotch to conceal his junk.
Brody, on the other hand, was quite a sight. Although both boys were similar in height, Brody had a good 20 pounds over Jimmy in muscle alone. So the singlet was clearly too small for the blond jock. The fabric stretched over his Adonis body, clinging to every crevice like a second skin. The other boys laughed as they saw a flustered Brady realize the mishap and cover his groin.
"We need to switch, Jimmy. I got yours by mistake."
An evil glint flashed in Jimmy's eyes. He had not expected an opening to humiliate his rival this soon, but he seized it with relish nonetheless. "Actually I think I'm good É fag."
Brody's heart sank as Jimmy rushed out the locker room for his weigh-in. The younger boys snickered, but they were immediately silenced by Brody's intimidating glare.
Brody walked over to a mirror to see how bad it was. His apprehension turned to despair when he saw how ridiculous he looked. Parts of the suit were stretched so thin it was practically sheer. The straps could barely pull the suit over his heaving chest. His large, puffy, pink nipples, still sore from yesterday's adventures, were completely exposed. He slowly moved his hands from his crotch and saw his massive meat impression clearly. There was no way he could hide it.
He sighed and sat down on the nearby bench. He would just have to wait for Jimmy to return. However, Jimmy never came. Instead, Coach popped his head in the door and called out for the younger boys. Brody could hardly catch Coach to explain the situation before he found himself alone in the locker room once more.
After a tense 15-minute wait, Coach popped back in the locker room.
Brody instantly leapt up from the bench. "Coach, Jimmy took my suit by mistake. I need you to call him back here."
Coach's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me bitch. But I don't NEED to do anything. I leave you alone for ten minutes and you can't keep from showing off your slut body. If you want men to see your hot ass so much, it's fine by me. Now get up, you are the only one left for weigh-in."
Coach loved seeing his slut turn that oh-so-perfect shade of red. He had definitely shut the jock up. Maybe next time he would not be so stupid. Coach could not help but laugh when he heard what Jimmy had done. The boy was as devious as him. And that was saying something!
He followed his prized possession down the empty hallway. Luckily for Brody, the match was after school hours. The place was deserted. The only ones around were probably in the gymnasium to view the matches.
Coach watched his slut's beautiful cheeks strain within their spandex confines. The suit material was so tight it was disappearing into Brody's crack. Coach chuckled as the jock tried to pick out the suit from his ass fruitlessly. The singlet framed Brody's ass perfectly. Coach made a mental note to have his slut wear the same suit the next time they had their fuck sessions. The very thought gave Coach a woody. He could not wait for the match to be over. He needed to pound jock cunt really bad. He had held off for as long as he humanly could by giving the bitch a break last night. If only he knew what had transpired instead!
Coach reached forward and grabbed one of Brody's ass cheeks and guided him to a room. Inside was an old man in a referee's uniform. He was waiting patiently with a clipboard in hand beside the weighing scale.
Brody blushed again as he saw the referee look visibly surprised at his appearance.
"That's quite a suit, Nate," he told Coach. "Is it even regulation?"
Both men laughed at their joke. Brody, however, did not find anything about the situation remotely amusing.
"Well, get on the scale, boy. And hands by your sides."
Brody got on the platform. He took a deep breath and moved his hands from his groin to his sides. He could feel both men's eyes laser in on his prominent bulge. His discomfort was palpable.
"Actually Brody, we are doing this the old fashioned way. You need to strip before we take the measurements."
Brody looked at Coach in surprise. And when he glanced over at the referee, the old man seemed equally perplexed.
"Come on now. The other boys did the same. Isn't that right, Barry?"
It was the referee's turn to blush as he hesitantly nodded. Brody knew Coach was lying. But what choice did he have? It seemed that he was nothing but a plaything for all these men. He struggled to remove the overly tight suit. He saw the referee looking at his cock as it plopped out. The best Brody could do was get the measurements done quickly. He was soon completely nude as he got on the weighing machine once more.
The referee cleared his throat as he busied himself with taking Brody's weight measurements.
"You got yourself quite an impressive wrestler, Nate. He wasn't nearly as big the last time I saw him."
"Yeah, I've been working him over really hard," Coach replied with a hint of mischief in his voice. "It's been some rough going but I think Brody here will go all the way to the podium today. Just look at his glutes. There is no way my boy is losing today."
Brody blushed once more as Coach made him turn around and show his bare muscled ass to the referee to make a point.
Then without warning, the older man reached out and grabbed a generous handful of the jock's ass meat and gave it a firm squeeze. The referee whistled in appreciation.
"Yes, mighty fine boy you got there."
It seemed that the referee had lost any of the inhibition he had shown earlier. Brody felt the man pull his cheeks apart to expose his crack.
Brody's ears turned even redder, if it was actually possible. He looked up at Coach with pleading eyes. But Coach simply sneered back. Nothing turned on Coach more than witnessing his slut being manhandled by real men.
Emboldened by Brody's reluctant acquiescence, the referee slipped his fingers right into the jock's ass crack. Brody let out a gasp as the prying fingers probed his sore hole and easily breached his sphincter.
The referee exchanged a knowing look with Coach - a silent concord that the teenage boy in front of them was intended for sexual abuse. There was no need to hold back.
Tears brimmed in Brody's eyes from the humiliation of being fingered by this stranger.
Eventually, the referee withdrew his fingers from Brody's burning hole.
Acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place, he announced, "Everything checks out on my end. Or maybe I should say your end." Both men chuckled. "Now you'd best get going, boy. The matches are about to start soon."
When Brody first walked out into the gym, he could not help but hear the snickers. His package was shamefully obvious - heck, for that matter, which part of his anatomy was not? At least he had to sit on the bench facing away from the crowd. He comforted himself with the knowledge that this was a school out of state. He would not see these people again anyway. He refused to let Jimmy gain any further mileage from his nasty little stunt.
And so, Brody waited for his final match. He had already dominated the last two. Humiliating outfit or not, there was no denying the blond hunk's athletic prowess. In fact, it almost seemed like the boys Brody defeated felt worse about losing to a guy wearing the ridiculous suit.
Brody was on his way to a gold medal. He watched Jimmy grapple in his own match, and smirked with satisfaction when Jimmy lost.
"I guess that asshole needs to settle for second place", Brody thought to himself in contempt. He was going to give his best and win. Nothing would make him happier than to shove his gold medal in Jimmy's smug face.
A scowling Jimmy made his way back to the team bench. Then Brody heard his own name. This was it, his chance to win the state finals.
He got up and there were several catcalls from the audience. If it was any consolation to Brody, they were in an all-boys school. So there were hardly any girls to witness his embarrassment. But that did not mean several mothers had not turned up to see their sons compete.
Brody waddled to the mat, the thin lycra practically splitting his ass. He tried to pick out the fabric digging into his crack, which only elicited more jeers from the crowd.
Brody's opponent grinned at the muscled hunk walking towards him.
"I like the look you're going for," the boy whispered. Brody turned red and looked at the referee who pretended not to have heard the remark, although his broad smirk gave the truth away.
With an effort, Brody composed himself and whispered back coolly, "Thought I'd give you a good view while you're on the lower step of the podium."
The boy's smirk disappeared. Both boys gave each other terse handshakes when the referee blew on his whistle.
Immediately both boys lunged at each other. While they were physically similar, Brody was clearly the better wrestler. He used all of the techniques he had learnt and quickly got his opponent on his stomach.
Brody used this opportunity to pin his opponent down. There was no way the fucker was going to escape.
However, as Brody remained crouching over his sparring partner, there was an agonizingly slow ripping sound. Brody yelped as he felt the material in his ass crack start to give way. In an instant, it became apparent to Brody that he had split his suit along the ass seam.
It took the crowd a few seconds to register what they were seeing. It was not simply the fact that Brody had split his pants. But the suit was so tight that once it ripped, the fabric immediately pulled back. This meant that Brody's perfect ass globes were completely exposed. And because of Brody's crouching stance, anyone close enough had a perfect view of the jock's pink pucker.
The first few laughs started trickling in. And before Brody knew it, the gymnasium was filled with jeers and whooping.
"Zoom in with your camera," yelled someone in the audience. "You can see EVERYTHING!"
Brody felt tears prickling in his eyes. He was still holding his opponent down. He couldn't release him without losing the match, not when he was so close to victory. So he just held on, even though he knew there were spectators collecting visual souvenirs of his public debasement.
It seemed like an eternity before the referee finished counting down to ten. Brody was convinced that Barry had purposely drawn out the count to prolong his humiliation.
Brody had won. Although he definitely did not feel like he had triumphed.
He looked back and saw the rest of his team laughing and cheering at the same time. Jimmy seemed to be amused but pissed that Brody had done better than him. Coach, however, was ecstatic. He clearly did not care how Brody won, as long as he did. That Brody had been publicly disgraced in the process was just the icing on the cake.
Brody quickly got up and hid his sweaty ass from the crowd. His hands firmly clutched his bulge.
"Good match," said his opponent, followed by a friendly slap on his bare left cheek. Brody whimpered and started backing his way to the exit. It was an incredibly awkward walk as other people started congratulating him in between guffaws.
Brody eventually made it to the locker room. He grabbed a nearby towel and covered himself. It was one thing to be humiliated in front of a few people. But the shame he felt from being exposed in front of an entire crowd was too painful to describe. He prayed that the more revealing photos and videos people had taken would not make it back to his school or to his father.
The locker room door suddenly burst open as all the athletes poured in to change.
"Entertaining game, Brody!"
"Yeah, it was quite a sight."
The room erupted in laughter as Brody maintained his seemingly perpetual blush. He quickly got to his locker but not before he felt a few more slaps on his exposed butt.
The boys got changed and headed to the gymnasium for the awards ceremony. As much as Brody was bothered by the incident, he could not help but relish the gold medal swinging proudly from his chest. As Coach congratulated him with a hug, Brody almost managed to push the degrading acts to which he had been subjected out of his mind. Watching Jimmy glower with jealousy only added to his elation.
As the crowd started filing out, Brody was being guided back into the locker room by an unknown hand. Brody found his euphoria rapidly deflating as he found himself in an empty room with the referee and Coach.
"We wanted to congratulate you on your amazing performance boy. You have made the town of Plainsville very proud. I will see to it that you get a hero's welcome when we reach home."
Brody eyed both men warily. The gold medal suddenly felt heavy around his neck.
"Thanks Coach. I think I'll join the team in the cafeteria now. I'm starving." Brody turned to leave the locker room.
"You sure you aren't hungry for some man cock instead?"
Brody shook as he turned back around. He knew what was expected of him. The referee was openly touching himself through his track pants. And there was no mistaking the growing cock in Coach's pants either.
Both men walked over to the trembling jock, like wolves honing in on their prey.
"Strip, bitch," Coach growled at Brody. The referee had taken this opportunity to lock the locker room door.
Brody bit his lower lip and undressed. As he reached to lift the medal from around his neck Coach stopped him.
"Leave that on. I always wanted to fuck a state champion." The men laughed.
"Actually, why don't you put your singlet back on, too?" suggested the referee.
"Good idea, Barry," Coach exclaimed approvingly. "After all, it'll still give us access to both the slut's holes!"
A tearful Brody pulled on the torn singlet again while the older men stripped off. Despite his age, the referee was rock-hard, sporting a 7.5 inch cock, thick as a beer can. Brody gulped when he saw it. He hoped neither man would be able to tell that he'd been double-dicked the previous night when he was supposed to be resting up for today's competition. Coach would be furious to learn that his slut had been whoring around without his permission, even if it had not been in Brody's control.
Brody found himself being tossed onto a bench with his legs held up and spread widely. He felt Coach spit on his hole - that was all the lube he was getting - before he crammed his thick meat into the teen's taut hole. Meanwhile the referee rammed his tool down Brody's throat. Between the two of them, they subjected the helpless jock to a brutal spit-roasting.
Poor Brody groaned in discomfort through his mouthful of cock. This was not at all the celebration he had envisioned. He was being treated like a two-dollar whore even though he had just won the state championship in the heaviest weight class. He almost wished that he had thrown the match, but he suspected that Coach would have fucked him anyway as `punishment' for losing. At least this way, he had something to hold on to, the knowledge that he was actually good at something besides serving as a sexual plaything for men.
Despite the devastating humiliation Brody was feeling, his own erect, leaking cock was hard to ignore. Coach was giving the teen's prostate a skillful massage with his cock, hitting it on every perfectly-aimed thrust. He knew Brody's anatomy better than the boy did himself.
By the time the two men swapped places, Brody had already cum twice and was a hair's breadth away from a third orgasm. He turned bright crimson when Coach rebuked him for being a naughty little boy-whore who couldn't disguise how much he was enjoying his double rape. Coach scooped up the spunk and made him eat it along with the contents of his own, full condom.
Brody had hoped his tormentors would tire after blowing two loads a piece, but it turned out that they had more stamina than he had given them credit for. While he ached all over, they were still raring to go. Admittedly they weren't ready to cum again but they WERE able to get hard and that was all they really needed since their primary goal was to make their bitch squirm.
They made Brody change positions and straddle Barry, so that he was impaled on the latter's cock. Being face-to-face with his abuser just amped up his shame and he tried to shut his eyes, but Coach wasn't having any of it. He ordered him to keep his gaze fixed on Barry while he gave Coach a hand-job.
Brody's beefy pecs were just below eye level for Barry and the referee couldn't resist giving his perky tits a chewing. Not a nip or a nibble, but a full-on mauling. Poor Brody squealed in agony as his tits were savaged. Then Coach came in his face, some of his sperm going directly into Brody's open mouth.
"Nice one," complimented Barry, not minding that some of Coach's spunk had landed on his own face. He was going to make Brody lick it all up, anyway. He Frenched the distressed teen, shoving his tongue right down his unresisting throat. Brody sucked face with him deliriously, desperate to take his mind off the pain in his ass and tits, not to mention his impending orgasm.
"Damn," thought Coach. "The boy's a really good kisser. Pain must be his trigger. He's never been this enthusiastic when the Reverend or I force him to make out. Now I know."
Poor Brody, he had just sentenced himself to more misery. Coach would be making sure he hurt just to guarantee his kissing was up to par.
They didn't manage to extract that third orgasm out of him, though it was of little relief to Brody. He was unceremoniously dumped on the floor of the locker room while Coach and the referee headed out for a meal. They'd worked up quite an appetite pounding the bitch into the ground.
Brody gingerly picked himself up from the floor, intending to head into the showers for another rinse, but it was not to be.
"Well, well, well," boomed a voice from the entrance to the locker room. "What do we have here?"
Brody whipped his head around to see Jimmy standing in the doorway, a shit-eating grin on his face.
To be continued (in a few months) É
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