This story is about male/male relationships and contains graphic descriptions of sex.
You should not read this story if it is in any way illegal due to your age or residence.
This is a work of pure fiction. It mixes fictional characters and events with real people. However any real person mentioned in this work is purely an actor playing a part. This story in no way is meant to imply anything about the sexuality, personality, or behaviour of the actual person.
-------------- TURNING JONNY - PART 4 --------------
Set in the summer of 2003
For DS
Sean opened the door to Jonny's house, smiling as he saw the assemblage of men on the garden path waiting to be let in.
"Gentlemen" he said, greeting them all. "Come on in."
Sean stood by the door as Clive Woodward, Ben Cohen, Matt Dawson and Josh Lewsey filed in, all wearing England Rugby tracksuits. Behind them, Tim Henman was dressed more casually in jeans and a T-shirt, and was being encouraged into the house by his coach Brad Gilbert. Finally, Sven-Göran Eriksson led in some of the England squad in their national tracksuits, with David Beckham first in the pack followed by Michael Owen, James Beattie and Frank Lampard. Sean was pleased to see that while the coaches walked in with heads held high, his other conquests were all looking down as they entered Jonny's house.
Once everyone was inside and standing patiently in the nearby living room, Sean shut the front door and made his way over to join them. A few of them were whispering to each other, and Sean guessed that the rugby contingent now knew whose house they were at.
"Quiet boys" he said, before gesturing to Clive to speak.
"Thank you Sean" said Clive, then turning to the rest of the room. "Men, thank you for coming. Sean here has done a fine job of turning another of my boys, and today you will be welcoming another cumdump comrade into your ranks."
"Aye" continued Sean, "upstairs is England's finest, and Ireland's scourge, Jonny Wilkinson. He's freshly loaded and plugged, and ready for his final initiation."
"So" said Clive, "as is normal on these occasions, today you will be taking a break from your normal slutty lives and helping another of your kind to see his true potential."
Most of the men round the room were smiling by this point, some in anticipation of what was to come and some while reminiscing of their own starting party.
"But first" said Sean, somehow grinning while looking stern, "I wanna be hearin' you ask for this little treat."
There was a slight pause, and then the world-famous players one-by-one got down on their knees next to their respective coaches.
"Please sir, can I join in today", or some variation on that, was asked by each of them. Sven and Clive both just nodded at their players, but Brad stroked and patted Tim's head a bit before agreeing to his request. The players then all remained on their knees, awaiting further instructions.
"Good" said Sean, "you're all good boys. Now, if you have a load in you already, please put your hand up."
All of the players raised their hands.
"OK, now keep yer hand up if you have two loads in you."
Beattie and Lewsey lowered their hands, both looking rather solemn.
"Hmmmm" said Sean, frowning, "we might have to do something about that. Now, the rest of you keep yer hands up if you have three loads in you."
And so it continued, until a very red-faced David Beckham was the last one with his hand raised, with the only one holding at least seven loads in his rectum.
"Well Mr Beckham" said Sean, "yer wanna tell me how many you actually have?"
"Eleven, sir" said Beckham, rather quietly.
"Sorry?" said Sean.
"Fourteen, sir!" said Beckham, much louder. "I have eleven loads in me."
Sean smiled and nodded at him. "That, my boys, is what we call being a cumdump. Whose are they Golden Balls?"
"The Slovakian team sir" replied Beckham.
"Good boy" said Sean. "But if there's 14 of them then I wanna be hearing 28 loads. Next time you get at least two loads off each of them, understand?"
Sven smiled and looked down at his star player's crestfallen face. He had not selected David for the match against Slovakia, instead instructing him to save his energies for keeping the visiting players entertained on the drive back from Middlesbrough, and Beckham had been so proud when he finally got off the tour bus in London having ridden every one of the Slovakian players' cocks and sucked off all their coaching staff. Even the British driver had got a cheeky handjob in the car park of a service station they had stopped at for coffees, his price for silence. But as the coaches knew, their cumdumps could always do better in the eyes of their trainer.
"Roight" said Sean, clapping his hands together, "let's get this started. Everyone naked. Then Beckham, get upstairs and present yourself for cleaning out to our newest recruit. The rest of yer, form an orderly line on the stairs and I'll call youse forward when ready."
The players did as instructed, while Sean and the coaches went ahead of them to take up their positions to watch the action in Jonny's bedroom. As they entered the room, Clive whistled in astonishment at Jonny's prone and submissive form.
"Wilko" he said, causing Jonny's head to dart round.
"Coach!" he squealed, "what are you doing here?"
"Come to watch" he said, "and then afterwards you'll be one of mine."
"I-I-I'll be what?" Jonny stammered.
"One of my cumdumps" said Clive, matter of factly like he was talking about the shopping. "Many of us coaches have some A-list talent to help with entertaining our sponsors and VIP guests, and you'll be one of mine."
Jonny just stared at him open-mouthed, until his attention was distracted by the sight of a naked David Beckham walking into the room. The two made eye contact, and maintained it until the footballer was standing next to the rugby player's bed. He then climbed on, shuffled around a bit and eventually was kneeling in front of Wilkinson with his back to him. He leaned forward on to all fours, then shuffled back to get closer to Jonny. He finally lowered his head and shoulders to the bed, giving maximum access to his plugged arse.
"Boy, remove that plug and get to cleaning out that cummy hole" Sean commanded. "I don't wanna see a drop of what's in there landing on that bed."
"Er, er, y-y-yes sir" Jonny said quietly. Then, while supporting himself on one elbow, he reached up with his other hand and gripped the end of the plug in Beckham's arse. It was nowhere near as thick as the one still inside his own bottom, but it was still a substantial bit of rubber. He started to pull, and eventually the widest part of the plug started to appear. Beckham arched his back to raise his arse even more, and then the plug was released. Jonny saw some goo starting to drip down from the gaping hole, and instinctively dived forward and got his tongue in to the crevice to catch it. He then worked his way up and began to lick around and slightly inside Beckham's hole, immediately aroused at giving his first ever rimming.
"Good boy" said Sean. "Now, you just keep on cleaning up that hole, while the rest of me boys waitin' on the stairs add a few loads to yours."
"Yes sir" Jonny replied, his voice muffled by David's arsecheeks.
Sean went over to Jonny's hole and yanked the plug out of him, eliciting a moan from the rugby superstar as he continued to tenderly clean out Beckham's hole. The other cumdumps were then summoned in one by one to fuck Jonny. His face remained buried in David's hole, even when the last of the Slovakian loads had been emptied, so he never saw who was pounding in and out of his own rear end. He took anonymous load after anonymous load, until eventually it was David's own turn at Wilkinson's arse. He removed himself from the bed, got behind Jonny and then fucked him senseless, having been so thoroughly turned on by the amazing rimjob he had just experienced. In just a couple of minutes he blew a copious quantity of seed into Jonny's swampy innards, thus completing the first part of the initiation.
"Boy" said Sean, coming over to near Jonny's head as David pulled his softening cock out of the rugby player and exited the room, "you did good."
"Thank you sir" said Jonny, turning his head up to look at the Irishman.
"I'm gonna give yer a break now" he said, "so you can go downstairs and meet your fellow cumdumps. Then we'll have a think about where we do your second part."
Jonny blinked at him, and then nodded. He hauled himself up straight and crawled off the bed, realising he was aching a bit from being on all fours for so long. He then turned to face the three coaches, who were all smiling at him. Sven and Brad then turned and left the room with Sean following behind, leaving Jonny and Clive in the room alone.
"That look suits you" said Clive.
Jonny blushed and looked down at his feet. "I didn't know you'd be involved in this" he said quietly. "I thought you were helping me the other day."
"I am helping you son" said Clive. "This will help you to be a better player."
"It will?" Jonny asked, looking back up at his coach.
"Of course" said Clive. "I don't know the psychology or biology of it all, but I do know my boys perform best when they know their place. Hell, if I can get Sean to work his magic on everyone by the autumn we'll definitely win the damn World Cup!"
With that, Clive smiled and then turned to leave the room.
"Sir?" Jonny said quietly.
"Yes boy" Clive said, turning back round.
"Aren't you going to fuck me?" Jonny asked, his face a picture of hopefulness.
Clive grinned at him, walking back over and lightly stroking the side of the player's face. "All in good time, boy, all in good time."
With that, Clive turned and left again. Jonny watched him leave the room and head for the stairs, before slowly starting to follow. Cum was running down both his legs and dripping on the floor, and he knew there would probably be a lot more of that pumped into him before the day was out. But for now, he needed to go downstairs and face the men who had bred him. Face his fuckers. Face his fellow cumdumps. His curiosity peaked, he started to descend the stairs.
TO BE CONTINUED
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