© 2000 by Maletrain
All rights reserved.
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Two things I sort of forgot to mention before. One was that university intern. Everyday he inspected us for breach of security he had to squat down and handle our locked jocks. I think we all sort of imagined him sucking us off down there with his head in line with our encased equipment. Of course a fucking hetero athletic coach like him would never do anything like that, but just as he was about the only one paying attention to our crotches we sort of imagined what it might be like to shoot a load into his mouth. Well, none of us could do anything like that but I guess we sort of thought that he was the idea behind all of this and so we might make him suffer by plugging his mouth with our tools. Just a thought, as we more often thought about getting back to fucking women, hell, with our cocks forced down bent and small and the sensitive tip held out in the air in the middle of the cup, not able to touch anything, not able to be touched, not able to grow, to fill, to rise up: locked down for the season, we would have been satisfied with just a good jerk off, but even that was not in the offing.
The other thing which shows how little things change when you get locked up like we were, well, those team busses didn't have very good shocks, or maybe not any at all, and we used to complain about how hard riding and rough riding they were. The rest of the team still did, but we 7 seniors began to quiet down about that. I don't think we really compared notes on it at first, it just sort of snuck up on us, but what I mean is that our balls were held in suspension in those hard metal cups and that there was no sensation of touch or anything there. It was like they were cut off, like we were castrated. We really didn't feel like we had balls anymore, except... except... when there was a sharp quick blow to the body or to the cup. This happened sometimes in practice, sometimes in the games, but the only sustained vibrations were when we rode the bus.
Then there was an almost constant pat of the balls up against their metal prison. Not enough to get off, not enough to even feel really good, but at least we were getting little signals that our equipment was still there. Sort of like the red light blinking on a call answering machine, there was a little mental red light blinking in our heads, flickering on for a second at each bounce. We all began to look forward to the long bus rides and we also knew that if we won the league then our regional playoffs would mean even longer rides and of course to get to the state championship games, well, our balls would be buzzing all the way down there.
We experimented with seating until we found the locations with the most severe bounces and then kicked the other guys out of those seats so we could have some little low-level pleasure. While the juniors on our team could ride holding their cocks in their pants, touching their balls, maybe getting hard and even shooting a load right there in the dark of the bus thinking about the cheerleader they were going to plow after the game, while they were doing manly things, we closed-cup guys could only get a little buzz or two going in our balls and then only enough for a couple drops of fluid to drain out the bottom of the jocks and into our pants, just a couple little spots, nothing like the puddles of cum pouring and shooting from those junior players.
I invited the gymnast over on Thanksgiving afternoon to "workout" and he did come and we went down to the basement and got to it. He told me that he had fucked Missy several times since he left me and he had to admit that he really enjoyed my tight hole better, he really liked the way my muscles clamped down on his prong. He went on for a long time and I was really enjoying it. He started kissing me again and I was kissing back. We both put tongue and lips to work on the other guy's chest and mid section and arms and shoulders and neck. After stroking my moaning Adam's apple he clamped his lips on mouth and plunged in with his tongue. Well I didn't like that, here he was pushing into both my holes at the same time. I again had feelings of him taking me like I was a woman.
But then I told myself that he was really doing me a favor by plugging my ass for me and so it was sort of only fair that I let him fool around inside my mouth. After all, he wasn't asking me to suck his cock or anything queer like that. And after I got out of my cup, well, I planned to fuck him good and I could play the man in his mouth then too. I thought he was about done kissing me but then he pulled out of my ass hole and without asking just pushed his cock into my mouth. Well, it didn't feel good at first, but after I got over the negative feelings of being turned into a cocksucker, well, it was OK. I didn't get the same good direct pleasure I had with him up my hole, but especially when I felt that velvet tip moving around on the roof of my mouth and then plunging down my throat, well, it was a nice feeling too. As I was taking his cock in my mouth I was already thinking how it would be when I could ram mine down his throat and I was going to have to see if I couldn't do something like that with the intern. I thought that after I got out of my jock lock and had reestablished myself with the ladies, I could look up the intern and polish his tonsils with my tool.
The gymnast went home totally exhausted as he had shot five or six loads up my ass and two or three more down my throat. I was smiling too, I had had just about as much fun as a guy can have while temporarily castrated. As I went to bed I dreamed... well, to be honest with you, not really of women, but of the gymnast, but also I could see myself fucking Jason and giving him the pleasure of my prod. I could imagine Jason up my hole too. Then I thought of Brent and if he were to rape me, well, it would be a trip. I smiled, my ass hole contracted and released several times as I put my hands on my cup, and quietly oozed myself to sleep.
Well, we made it to the state finals. No problem. We fought hard in the last game and there were several times when we were behind, but the other side was only playing for the title; we were playing for our balls and cocks, and that made the difference. In the final minutes, although they could still have threatened us, we were feeling good and sure we would win. When the gun sounded and we had won, we were really happy. A quick shower and then they bus-buzzed our balls back up to the school and the coach and principal met us in the locker rooms. The principal had unlocked the safe and the coach had his steel case already open. It was agreed that we 7 seniors would have one big beat off when we were released. The intern unlocked the padlocks, used a special laser heater to melt and pop off the plasticoat seal, and then inserted the main key running back the deadbolt and springing open the jocks. He reached inside each cup pulled back the sac retainer spring, then told us it was up to each guy to get his balls back out through the hole and his cock too. It took some work as the balls were pretty large and full of cum and the now stirring cock was also not too bendable. But in a while we were all lined up in the showers and we had agreed to compete for distance and volume. It didn't really take any of us much time to shoot. I don't have to tell you that Brent was the double winner, those babes sure have missed a lot the last few months.
It was late and we quickly went home with Brent and Jason planing to come over to my house and work out on Saturday. I wore myself out that night beating off in my bed and thinking... thinking not particularly of girls, but of Brent and Jason. We had agreed during our rubber dong sessions that when released we would save ourselves for each other on the first day, then we would go after the ladies. I could hardly wait to feel Brent's power up my hole and I sure wanted to see if a guy's rectum, any guy's, but particularly Jason's, if Jason's rectum was as nice a ride as the gymnast had told me mine was.
Well the next day was not disappointing and in fact that day alone sort of made the wait all season worth it. I did enjoy fucking and being fucked and the three of us working on each other's mouths and ass holes pretty much all day, shooting as many loads as a healthy athletic 18-year-old could. It was really fine to be able to feel our cocks and balls swinging and see them rising proud. We even just got off on lifting weights and working out naked and seeing our prods never dropping past 90 degrees with our abs. Those rubber dildos we had been using didn't have anything on us, three real men "up" for action in their prime fucking years. As the guys left we all were talking about making plans to hook up with some women, probably middle of the week. We would have to check the babes out, couldn't fuck just any old cunt. We had been away so long, we would have to make sure they were especially good. Couldn't just take the first one that came along, that wouldn't do for our reputations.
I didn't tell the guys but on Sunday I had the gymnast come over and I pretty much gave it to him up and down and in both his holes. It was so neat to see him gasping and panting like a woman. He had confessed that he had stopped seeing Missy, she just wasn't tight enough for him and she didn't have a hard enough body, and well, he sort of swallowed twice, he told me my weight-trained pecs were actually more attractive than the ones on Missy. In short, between Missy and myself, I was the better woman, the better man-servicer. He worshiped my body and this was particularly true when he knelt down to pay his respects to my cock with his mouth. I owed him a lot, he had taught me how to be a better lover, and I put it to work fucking him hard and feeling up his body at the same time. When I needed to take a break, I let him fuck me, but in the end I had enjoyed his body about 5 times for every time he had mounted me.
Well, Monday the basketball team was going to be organized and Brent, Jason, and I were all pretty sure we would be starters there. Even last year we had lettered in three sports: football, basketball, and track, and we didn't see how it would be any different this year. Basketball is played closer to the audience and the uniforms are much more revealing than the football ones; we would be able to show off our biceps, shoulders, our whole bodies to all those babes in the stands. Wouldn't be too long before we would be plowing cunt. Babes and basketball, not a bad way to spend the winter. Of course, our school was not as good in basketball, no way we could go to the state, but it would be fun playing out the regular season.
The next day we reported after school to the gym and did our tryouts, well, most of the team did their tryouts. The coach, this guy was different from the football coach who had gone back to his geometry classes now. This coach was the driver's training teacher and taught a class or two in civics, but his main reason for being there was to coach basketball. The coach told me and several other guys that he didn't need to do tryouts with us as he knew us from last year and wanted us on the team. This speeded up the selection process and fairly quickly the coach had his team together and thanked the other guys for trying out. There were several on the team that had been on the football team and there were quite a few seniors on the final basketball selection, but there were only three guys who had been on the football team, were now on the basketball team and were seniors. You've guessed it! Brent, Jason, and me.
The coach sent the juniors and lesser beings to the showers and asked the seniors to meet him in the training room. I'm sure we were expecting to hear his inspirational speech, about how this was the last time we could play for our school and how he was sure we could go all the way. Of course we all knew that we couldn't, but we would humor him with our attention.
I got a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw the principal standing there along with that damn university intern. I think all three of us buddies made a mental note to take that assistant coach intern out and fuck his ass for him sometime later that week. That heavy feeling in my stomach was quite justified as the principal told us that he was very impressed with the academic record of the 7 football seniors, how the faculty had told him how well prepared we were in each class, how much time we spent studying. We knew where he was going with all this, my cock knew, it was hard, desperately hard in my practice shorts. He went on to say that with that and in concurrence with the coach and with our parents, he had ordered that any seniors playing basketball be locked in steel jocks for the season.
I felt a low groan in my throat, but I swallowed hard and kept it down in my chest.
Well, the weird thing was that not only did I want to play basketball, I was actually thinking that it might be "fun" to go another few months in the tight emasculating restraints.
The principal left and the coach took over, he gave us the same offer as the football coach, take it or leave it. He had his team picked out, the 10 seniors, well, if any of us didn't want to play, he would have enough guys from the juniors who could fill in. He sent us to the showers, told us do our farewell beat off and load shoot and then shower and report back in 10 minutes. Any guy who didn't want to play could go on home, no hard feelings. Actually, it would be the guys who did want to play who would have no "hard" feelings, no hard-ons till the regular season ended just before the March madness.
Well, Brent, Jason, and I looked at each other and we knew: we could see it the other guys' eyes. We were going for it! As it turns out, all 10 guys went for it. What is it they say about the castration complex? We all have it? Well, this was certainly a way to experiment with castration, and play ball too! We 10 would be playing ball all right but not playing with our balls.
Without boring you with the details, the scene was very similar to that cup-fitting day at football practice. The intern told us that although we three guys were getting the same jock we had before, he had installed a new main lock that worked only with a new key, and that he had changed the combination on our three "tamper" locks. It took a little longer to get all the guys in, but pretty soon we 10 were all standing there naked but for the silver jock cups, listening to the intern's speech on how "secure" we were.
Then the basketball coach joined us for a few final words. I wasn't paying much attention as I was already figuring that I could get through Christmas and then it would be January and February and I would be out and fucking. Plenty of time to line up a broad for the spring prom. In the meantime, if I got horny I could always get the gymnast to come over and ride my hole. Not to worry about March because we knew we weren't going to any March Madness playoffs, not with our team. Then something sort of flashed in my ears, I didn't really exactly hear what the coach was saying, but there were some words coming through now and again. I couldn't hear him because my ears were buzzing, my head was flushing red, and I could feel a drip or two of pre-cum sliding out of the bottom of the jock cup. I heard things like "going all the way"... "state champions"... "if not, the locks stay on until the end of school".
Until the end of school! Wait a minute! I wanted to raise my hand and protest, but I looked around and the rest of the guys were just standing there in a military "at ease" almost like emasculated zombies, taking it. I guess the coach had us by the balls now and he could do what he wanted. Well, I was sure we wouldn't win or even get to the playoffs, so if we didn't have any snow days, it would be early June when I got to get personal with my prick again. After basketball I was going out for track. I wondered how this heavy metal jock was going to feel running the high hurdles? Well, I should get used to its rhythmic pull running up and down the basketball court and going up for shots or jump balls and then coming back down. I should feel like I have super heavy male equipment. If I didn't pull my balls off in basketball, then track should be a breeze. Let's see now neither uniform would be as "supportive" of the steel jock as the football uniform had been. Well, at least now I wouldn't have to worry about any basketball fouls below the belt and then later I could afford to approach those high hurdles in a pretty aggressive manner. I wondered how loud the "clunk" would be when any two of us senior b-ballers might happen to run into each other face-to-face on the court.
What about the prom? Well maybe Brent, Jason and I could come and dance with each other. Bring that gymnast along and we could double date. Except I'd rather dance with Jason. What am I saying here? I'm a stud, a hetero. It is just that I can't show my true bedroom talent with the broads until at least March if not until, groan..., June.
About Wednesday I had to take a shit when I was in third hour. I got the potty pass and bopped down to the john. Now at our school we had stalls for the bowls but no doors, a security measure. The urinals also had little panels on each side. Of course the whole school knew I was locked up and so during the football season they got used to seeing me bypass the urinals and go straight for the toilet bowls to do my business, either type of business. I was just going to make it to the toilet in time and as I jogged past the front of the stalls I noticed one was occupied by the gymnast, pants down around his ankles. "Sup? Had to take a shit too?" "Not me!... on both counts." I held up fast and took one step back to see the ugly glint of hard cold steel flashing up from his crotch. "No!" "Yeah! It's true; they got the whole school. All the senior jocks! Not a one of us escaped!"
My head was spinning with all the feelings I was having. God! No more fucking up my hole! How can I make it now! Only that rubber dong, or else get some senior wimp geek or a cock-hard junior to help me out. But I remembered the sight of the gymnast's hard tool, how he must have felt with it up my ass or down my throat. I think I was feeling sad and empty that he would not be in me until March or whenever his season was over, but I was also feeling some perverse thrill knowing he was not going to have anymore hard-ons or shoot any more loads, he was not going to be able to enjoy his big thick johnson or his balls either. I liked the idea that someone had locked him up. Serves him right! Trying to fuck my ass, trying to kiss me too! Goddam fucking queer faggot. Good thing you're steel jocked. But that line of thinking was gone in a flash and I told him how sorry I was. He finished his piss, waited for the jock to drain out, and left and I was alone sitting, shitting, and sweating.
© 2000 by Maletrain
All rights reserved.