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Diving Trials - Part Two
Nicholas Patrick <email@example.com>
In the months after Barcelona, Toby redoubled his efforts to be the best diver on the planet. David Bonuchi was given a 2 year ban by FINA and was therefore no longer eligible for the US National Team. Toby's search for his third partner started the second he got to the first practice after the 2013 World Championships.
Steele Johnson was out of the question, despite their previous success at the 2012 Olympic Trials. It would just be too weird working so closely with a guy who knew all about his antics in Spain (namely blowing his partner before a dive, spanking his partner after he got them disqualified and lastly giving Steele head without even objecting). Stanley had vowed to put that behind him, and partnering up with Johnson would be a move in the wrong direction. Plus, Steele dived for fun; Toby was strictly business.
His dream partner would have been team captain and reigning gold medalist David Bodia, but Toby wasn't at his level yet. Bodia consistently placed in the top 3 at International meets, where Stanley hovered in the fourth to seventh crowd. The Olympic Champion was also recently married and no longer lived at the National Aquatic Center in Indianapolis, meaning they would have less time to get their dives aligned as flawlessly as Toby wanted.
He ended up going with Jordan Windle, the adopted Cambodian American kid, six years his junior thinking that promise was better than past results. By this time Toby was 22 and Jordan 16. Also, at five foot two inches, Toby would for the first time be the taller member of a diving duo. When they approached the National Team coach about pairing, he was skeptical. He told them that they would need to double their practice time, which was fine with Toby.
Jordan's father, Jerry, was a huge benefactor to the team. Jordan had complained about having to share a room at a meet in China and as a result, Mr. Windle had shelled out the money to get all of the divers private rooms at international events. Jordan's other father, Andres, was a benefactor in a more hands on way: making the team gift bags, organizing team outings and offering congratulations after victory and consolation after defeat to any team member who needed it.
The next year brought about a whirl wind schedule. Toby and Jordan started training on a program that the more seasoned diver had built with coaches from the National Team and Duke Diving Club. Training started at 5:00 am each day with a mile run. The point was to run next to each other, mirroring each other's stride and picking up on subtle movement differences so that they would be more in synch for their synchronized diving. At 6:00, after showering they would grab breakfast and watch video of their previous practices looking for areas of improvement before heading to the training center. From 8:00 to noon, the 10 meter platform was their home. After lunch, and work on mechanics, Jordan had to complete school work (stupid state mandated athlete education) and Toby went to the gym. They met back up at 6:00pm to get two to three more hours on the platform before debriefing the day at 8:00-9:00 pm each night. Toby also taught Jordan how to fall asleep thinking of dives so that deep in his subconscious, he would always have the right motion in the right place at the right time.
Toby formed a strong connection with the younger boy. He felt more like Jordan's older brother than his diving partner. As Windle was now the shortest member of the National Team, he became the target of the inevitable taunts and bullying that goes along with being the shortest guy in a group of guys. Toby would have none of it, sticking up for Jordan whenever he saw his teammates target his de facto little brother.
Which is how Steele Johnson reentered Toby's sphere…
As the 2014 Winter National Championships were approaching, Stanley and Windle were practically mirrors of each other. They walked the same, sat and stood the same, even ate and chewed their food the same which all showed through in the pool. The side by side cameras that filmed their dives sometimes showed just 1 diver in frame because their movements were so similar. In prelims, they had blown away their competition. Semis had gone even better, leaving Toby and Jordan a comfortable lead heading into the finals.
Steele meanwhile was having a great solo diving experience. He was posed to take first place on the individual 10 meter platform but his interest was where it had been a year earlier in Barcelona. Since his experience with Toby, hearing about the spanking of his partner, the subsequent oral sex that ensued and finally the graphic dreams that some nights left Johnson shaken, other nights, satisfied and sticky. The six foot blonde had not left spanking in his wet dreams though. He had taken to the internet to learn more and liked literally everything he'd found, leading to many messes that led to dipping into the teams supply of tissues.
The problem was, he was too afraid to act on anything he'd seen. As hot as the concept was, there was no way for him to hide the results when you're wearing a piece of spandex that only covers 5% of your body. Johnson also wondered about the blow job that Toby had given him. Steele knew he wasn't gay, but he also enjoyed what had happened. Even more, he enjoyed fantasizing about it.
The morning of finals, Johnson spotted Toby's partner Jordan heading to the bathroom and decided to take rare opportunity of them being apart to ask him some questions. Jordan's two Dads were such a fixture on the team that them being gay wasn't really an issue. Steele wanted to find out how they knew they were gay. When? At what age? More importantly, he wanted to know if they did any of the things Steele had dug up on the seedier sites on his internet searches.
"Sup Squirt?" Johnson said breaking the ice.
Jordan was leery. If Toby had been there, he would have told Steele to shove off.
"Just going to pee before our last dive," Jordan replied, trying to sound upbeat and not let on that he didn't like being cornered by the older boy. "We just need an 88 on it to win gold."
Steele walked up to the urinal next to him. "That's exciting… Hey, do you ever hear what your Dad's are up to in their room?"
Tact and subtlety were not his strong suit.
"What do you mean?" Jordan said, wishing he hadn't already started peeing.
"You know, like, do you ever hear them making noises, like moaning or anything?" Steele was making an ass out of himself.
"Why are you asking me this?" Jordan asked incredulously. "I don't try to hear what my parents are doing in their room and I don't want to talk to you about it."
He tucked himself back into his speedo and walked away.
"Hey man, I was just curious," Johnson called after him. He was upset that he hadn't framed the discussion better. He'd wanted to find out how loud he and a play partner could be without getting caught.
When Jordan met back up with his diving partner, Toby could see that he was upset.
"What's wrong," he asked, concerned.
Jordan knew they were diving in 5 minutes so he brushed it off. "Just Johnson being a dick… Nothing new."
"Do I need to talk to him," Toby steamed.
Jordan told him not to worry about it, as they were 5 minutes away from being National Champions.
The meet ended with Toby and Jordan on top of the medal stand in a ceremony right after the solo winner, Steele Johnson stood atop his own podium. The team was slated to leave Ohio the next day, and as usual, Mr. Windle had booked extra rooms so that the boy's wouldn't have to double up. But after Jordan and Toby's win, and in no small part because he didn't want to spend the night in the same building as Johnson, Jordan had convinced his Dad's to take him home early. This meant that the extra rooms were now cancelled and the boys team had to double back up again. Naturally, the hotel only had king rooms left so each team member would have to share a bed.
Toby was mortified to see that he was stuck in Steele's room. He got to the hotel first, checked in and changed into his warm ups. He planned on confronting Steele about whatever he'd done to upset his partner. He also wanted to make sure that Steele knew that his little bro was off limits to his bullying in the future.
When Johnson did arrive in their room, much later, after much celebration, Toby was laid out watching ESPN.
"What's up Champ? Bummer on having to double up," Steele said throwing his bag on the floor.
Toby gave him a stern look. "You would know. Whatever you said to Jordan is the reason Mr. Windel cancelled our rooms." He looked back to the TV.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Johnson lied. "I just asked the little guy if he Dads made a lot of noise in their alone time. Just curious, no harm in that."
"Why would you think to ask him about that. That's none of your business and it's kind of weird Steele," Toby spat back at him.
"Hey buddy, I think we passed the weird threshold in Barcelona last year," Steele said taking off his shoes. "Me being curious is normal, you sucking off and spanking your team mates is weird."
The words stung Toby. "You promised not to talk about that."
Johnson smirked. "To anyone else, we both know what happened." He unbuckled his belt and kicked off his pants revealing that he was still wearing his competition suit.
"Well it's not happening again Steele," Toby countered, trying to avert his eyes from the rapidly disrobing Adonis in front of him. "Just don't screw with Jordan again, okay?"
Johnson's shirt went flying to the pile of clothes he'd created in the corner. "Whatever Stanley; I'm going to take a shower and go to bed", he said walking away from Toby. "Winning gold is hard, as you now know."
That not so subtle dig was a send up to the fact that Steele had won 6 National meets and Toby had just won his first. As Johnson closed the door to the hotel bathroom, a pillow flew after him, flung by his former partner. Toby was livid. Steele just acted like he was above everything. If he wasn't so much bigger than him, Toby had half a mind to do to him what he'd done to Bonuchi. But he knew that Steele could easily overpower and out leverage him due to his size and height. That didn't stop him from telling Johnson off when he emerged from the shower, wrapped in a towel 10 minutes later.
"You know you're a real dick," he yelled at his teammate when he rounded the corner.
"Well my name is Johnson," Steele calmly replied. "And you'd know about my dick wouldn't you Stanley," he said with that familiar condescending smirk.
Toby flew at him from across the room. Steele, not excepting the attack, and using one hand to hold the undersized towel around his midsection, found himself tackled by the smaller young man. Why Johnson was worried about his modesty, Toby didn't know, but he took advantage, pinning his other arm behind his back and twisting it until he cried out in pain.
"Ouch!" Steele shouted into the carpet. "Alright, I give up! You win! Just get off me please," he pleaded.
"Are you going to quit being such a smart ass?" Toby said twisting his wrist a little more.
"Probably not," Steele said beginning to formulate a plan. Toby was already mad at him and had already demonstrated that he was willing to spank a team member. And they wouldn't have practice for 3 day. "What are you going to do about it little man?"
Toby used his free elbow to press Steele's face into the carpet. "I have half a mind to beat your ass. Sound funny to you?"
Steele had been taken unaware, but he didn't want Toby to spank him face down on the floor. He most enjoyed the video where the boy was hauled over the lap of his spanker and needed a way to make that happen if this was going to work out the way he wanted.
"No," he said trying to sound sincere. "Maybe you should…" he stopped resisting and went limp on the ground.
Stanley loosened his grip but didn't let the taller boy up. "What?"
"Look, I know I'm a dick and maybe I did take it too far," Steele said lifting his head and trying to turn to face his captor. "If you think I deserve to have my ass beat, I won't stop you, but please don't do it like this," he wiggled his wrist in Toby's hand. Toby released it. "I'm sorry I messed with Jordan and I'm sorry I took advantage of you. Do whatever you want."
Those words left Toby confused. He legitimately wanted to hurt Johnson, but in a more primal, punch in the face way. He was also concerned that doing this might break the pact of silence Steele had taken on the plane back to Indy over a year ago. He stood up and backed away from his teammate and sat down in the chair away from the bed.
Steele gathered up his towel and stood sheepishly; turning to face his would be spanker. "What do you want to do Toby?" He then looked down, letting the towel slip to the floor.
If ever a six foot tall picture of manhood could look like a little boy, Steele Johnson made that happen. Most divers shaved down before meets but Steele didn't seem to have a hair below his eyebrow. He would have almost looked like an anatomical drawing of what a male should look like if not for the now half hard member swinging between his legs.
Toby continued to sit, bewildered. Johnson was clearly submitting himself, but Toby began to think he might have an ulterior motive. He remembered how Steele had gotten off on hearing about David's spanking and how that had been the catalyst that landed his cock in Toby's throat. He then realized that if Steele wanted to get off on being spanked, Toby would make sure that he got zero pleasure out of it.
"Okay Johnson, I'm going to spank you," he said sounding more confident than he was. "But first, go into the bathroom and grab my hairbrush." Toby always brought a brush with him to meets to untangle his matted hair after a dive.
Steele scurried to the bathroom, his bare bottom pale and tight as he walked away. When he returned, hairbrush in hand, his erecting had grown to its full 8 inches and was pointing right at Toby's forehead. Toby took the hairbrush and set it on the table behind him. He then reached out and not gently grasped Johnson by his member, pulling him forward.
"I know you think you're going to enjoy this you perv," he yanked down forcing Steele to his knees beside him. "I'm going to make sure you don't though." He released his cock and grabbed a swath of bleach blond hair. "Get over my lap," he commanded pulling on Steele's scalp as the bigger boy acquiesced.
I would have been a sight if anyone had seen it. Steele Johnson's long lean form stretched out over the more compact, muscled Toby Stanley's lap. Given his height, his hands had to rest on the floor to hold him up. His toes balanced the other end as Toby shifted him unceremoniously until his butt was right under Toby's hand.
Stanley wasted no time with a warm up. He hit Steele full force on his right cheek, causing his head to pop up in unexpected pain. Toby didn't wait for the other boy to adjust. He slapped each cheek, left then right, building his rhythm until the milking white bottom that he'd started with began to turn pink.
For his part, Steele made no move to obstruct his spanker. He realized early on that this was not the way he had imagined a spanking would be. The pain was much worse, much more rapid, much more layered. If was as if each blow hurt individually, then collectively and then spread throughout his upturned bottom.
It wasn't until Toby turned his spankee's body, placing his knee between Steele's thighs that the pain started to get unmanageable. That angle allowed Toby access to his inner thighs, access which Toby made free and steady use of. His blows began to pummel Johnson right on his sit spot, causing the once stoic boy writhe in pain.
Toby, fearing that he might lose control of his prey, hooked his leg over Johnson, pinning him down.
"No getting out of this," Toby muttered.
Johnson, thinking that his fun was had tried to plead his case. "I'm really sorry Toby, I learned my lesson."
"What lesson is that?" Toby asked sardonically, reaching behind him to grab the wooden hairbrush from the table.
Steele felt the cool face of the brush rest atop his reddening buns and knew he didn't want any more. "I shouldn't have been nosy with Jordan. I shouldn't have made you suck my dick. I shouldn't be such a dick all the time," he listed off offenses in rapid fire. "I'll make it up to you, just please stop!"
The brush slid across Johnson's backside slowly and deliberately.
"I think we both know we're past that Steele. You asked for this, literally and figuratively."
Toby wrapped his arm around Johnson's chest; so that he had the other boy in a leg lock and body bind, leaving him unable to escape even if he wanted to. He then set the brush in the small of Steele's back and reached underneath him, between his legs. The once throbbing member of his teammate wasn't quite as hard as it had been when they begun, but clearly, Toby had a long way to go before Steele was contrite.
"And it feels like you're still enjoying yourself so…"
Toby snatched up the brush and landed a blow on the center of Steele's crack. It left a mark that seared white, them blazed pink and red outward until it left a perfect oval on Johnson's equally perfect posterior. He found he enjoyed using the brush on his victim's bottom because each time there was an impact, Steel jerked and twisted, in took air, moaned or otherwise emoted, telling Toby that he was getting through.
He kept a much slower pace with the brush as well. Each strike was with purpose, with intent to bring the pain that Steele so sorely deserved. Those areas that Toby had neglected with his hand found plenty of attention under his brush. The once white, then pink, now red flesh was growing more tender each moment and Steele's responses grew more desperate.
Steele finally cracked and reached back on a particularly viscous swat on the seat of his butt, only to have his knuckles smacked with a pop from Toby's improvised paddle. Reaching back also had the effect of throwing him off balance, allowing Stanley to better position himself to control the bigger, stronger boy's body.
Johnson hadn't allowed someone to make him cry since his older brother had locked him in the storm cellar of their Texas home when he was eight. Now 10 years later, the 18 year old was about to cross the line again. His eyes were bloodshot, but not nearly as red as his backside. The thing that was really bothering him though was his level of helplessness. He had put himself into this position and now he couldn't get out. That, coupled in no small part by the pain burning his ass made him loose control.
When Toby felt Steele fall limp against him he slowed his beating, and then stopped noticing his younger teammate had moved from sobbing to full on crying. By no means was Toby a sadist and he felt like Steele had taken a good thrashing, a fitting punishment for his crimes. He unclasped his legs from around Johnson's, admiring the contrast of white and pink and red. He then released Steele's upper body from his left arm causing the crying teenager to instantly reach back to rub his radiating rear.
Toby tossed the brush on the bed and grabbed at Johnson's hips, motioning for him to get up. Steele registered the command, but when he tried to stand his knees buckled. He steadied himself by pulling Stanley into a full body hug. He let loose a volley or uncontrollable sobs, soaking Toby's Team USA shirt. Not knowing what to do, Toby hugged the boy back, thinking that perhaps the smartass had found some contrition.
He thought that right up until he helped Steele up and was greeted by a boner in his ribcage. Toby once again grew angry, but didn't want to give Johnson the chance to get away.
"Lie down on the bed," Toby said softly.
"Thank you," Steele managed between his crying.
He plopped down on the bed and wrapped his arms around a pillow. Toby surveyed the room and saw Steele's belt, still looped through his pants on the floor. He went and retrieved it.
"Steele," Toby said, preparing to pounce on his physically superior teammate so as to surprise him again. "We're not done."
Johnson turned, saw the belt and let out a wail. But instead of putting up a defense or trying to get away, he remained face down, ass up on the bed, waiting for Toby to finish his assault. Toby actually smiled at that. He had defeated the boy and while he took no pleasure in hurting him, he took pride in having bested him.
He walked to the end of the bed and pulled Steele's legs down off the edge. Johnson allowed himself to be dragged to his knees, bent over the end of the bed. Toby spoke.
"You are 18 years old Steele. You should know how not to be a bully. You should know what is not appropriate. I'm going to give you 18 licks with the belt. I should make you count, but I'm not going to. Do not get up or I'm will start over."
Toby's orders surprised even him. He sounded so confident and self-assured. He had gone from worrying about Steele overpowering him, to worrying about taking his punishment too far. These last 18 lashes with the belt were all the other boy could take, Toby was sure of it, but he needed to be sure that he got through to him so there would be no repeating this scenario again.
Steele didn't acknowledge Toby except to perk up slightly when he spoke and fall back down into the pillow and sheets when he was done speaking. Toby's first swing of the belt landed high, tracing a line just below his tailbone. Johnson pressed his feet to the floor and would have run through the wall had the bed not been there. He began to cry in earnest again. The second stroke was correspondingly too low, completely missing his butt and ravaging his upper thighs. Steele knees began to shake and bounce on the floor.
By this point, Johnson was focused on breathing, as the pain in his backside was causing his body to panic. He was fighting for each breath and mostly losing as each time he heard the belt cut through the air he held his breath and each time it cut into his skin he gasped in pain. Toby could have whipped him 18 times or 1800 times for all Steele knew. All he knew was pain and air (mostly pain).
When Toby suddenly stopped, the kneeling diver wasn't sure if he was done. He turned to see Toby sit back down in the chair and hoped that this ordeal of his choosing was over. Long minutes passed and his tears turned to sobs that turned to ragged breaths that finally gave way to shallow breaths. He asked Toby if he could stand up.
"Yeah, in the corner," Toby said with a little edge to his voice.
Steele knew from his perusal of spanking porn that he should put his hands on his head upon reaching the unadorned hotel room corner. Against his will, as he stood, he felt the blood that had rushed to his buttocks rushing back to his penis. Given Toby's last reaction to his erection, he didn't relish the idea of getting caught in this state again. This thought made him burst into tears unbidden. Toby looked up with a start upon hearing Steele begin to cry.
"What's wrong?" Toby asked, thinking he might have injured his teammate during their punishment session.
Steele cried into the corner, hands still clasped behind his head. "I'm sorry, I can't make it go down," he let out turning to allow Toby to see.
Toby's eyes widened. He couldn't help but admire this kid's stamina. He was at a loss not only for words but for actions as well. Neither of them seemed to know what to do.
"Put your hands down," was all Toby could manage.
Johnson's hands fell to his side, where the lingered only a second before finding his butt. That had the effect of pushing his pelvis forward, thrusting his obscenely large dick further into the air. Toby sighed.
"Did none of that get through to you? Did you just get off on the whole thing?" he asked exasperated.
Steele blushed. "No, I didn't like it. Well, not all of it. I mean, I don't know. I'm sorry. I don't understand…"
His hands moved to his face to wipe away fresh tears. Toby stood, making to leave the room. The crying lad caught him by the arm, not forcefully, just to get his attention.
"I'm really sorry Toby, you have to believe me," he panted, salty tears rolling off his chin. "Let me make it right."
The older boy stepped back. "What do you mean?"
Steele fell to his knees. "Maybe if I give you head, we'd be even," the words toppled from his mouth like dominos, accidental and inevitable.
Toby took another step back. "You want to suck my dick?"
"I think it's the only way to put us back on the level," Steele explained. "I don't want to, but I think I need to," he continued, reaching his hand out to rest on the waistband of Toby's track pants.
Both young men were frozen. Toby found himself becoming aroused, unbidden. Steele, already hard as a rock, didn't want to force the issue. It was Toby, or more accurately Toby's dick that broke the stalemate. His erection grew until it pressed up against the kneeling boys wrist, which he took as a sign to continue.
Johnson reached his other hand up and tugged his elder teammate's pants down, past his knees, releasing them to fall at his ankles. Wearing speedos instead of underwear must have been a team tradition because Toby's manhood was also encased in lycra. The outline of his cock stretched the red white and blue USA logo tight until Steele stroked it through the suit, causing the head to pop up above the waistband.
His cockhead free, Toby let out a hungry sigh and reached down to free the rest of his genitals, lowering his swimbriefs half way down his thighs. Steele looked eagerly up at him, eyes locked on Toby's eyes until he heard his dick flop free from the suit. His hands, which returned to Toby's hips, were large enough that they reached around to grasp Stanley's tight little bubble butt with his fingertips.
When Toby threw his head back, that was all the provocation that Steele needed. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and sucked the first few inches of Toby's cock onto his waiting tongue. Unsurprisingly, he tasted of chlorine. Toby's right hand found its way to the back of Steele's head causing Steele to try to take more. To his credit, Toby's balls were on his chin before he gagged. There was no substance to it; just the reflex and lack of air but the vibrations sent waves of pleasure up Toby's shaft like a shock of electricity had hit his nervous system.
Steele pulled away, drool falling from his mouth to splat on his own still hard dick. Toby looked down and nodded. The kneeling boy then palmed his own cock in one hand and Toby's in the other. He led the shorter boy's dick to his waiting mouth and licked around the head in a swirl before engulfing it once again in his warm wet mouth. While Toby had never had such an experience, Steele knew how it felt and tried to do everything to Toby that Toby had done to him when their roles were reversed.
Unsurprisingly, it was the teenager who came first. As he bobbed up and down on Toby's dick he continued to jerk is own meat. What put him over the edge was accidentally resting his recently spanked butt on his ankles. The jolt of pain, mixed with the pleasure of pleasuring Toby and himself simultaneously, caused his balls to tighten and loose their load.
The first shot landed on Toby's left knee. The thrill of the orgasm, and its accompanying moan, finally allowed Steele to open up his throat, taking the last of Toby's cock into his throat. Before Steele's second rope of semen splashed onto the track pants between his spankers legs, Toby let out his own moan. Instinctually, he pressed both to his hands into Steele's ears, pulled him tight to his hips and thrust his spunk into the other boys waiting mouth.
Steele choked in earnest this time, which did nothing to diminish either of their orgasms. The hand that had been guiding Toby's penis to his mouth not lay flat against the older lad's abs. Once his choking subsided, and he realized he could breathe through his nose, he pushed Toby away, just in time for Toby to blast the top of his mouth with his last few pumps of spunk. Steele had begun cuming before Toby and continued after. Toby looked down to see the blonde bombshell pump his cock a half dozen more times before he released both from his grip.
Johnson had cum leaking from his mouth, a little had found its way to his hair and there was a fair amount running down past his left nipple onto his abdomen. Toby was mostly spared the shower, as his speedo and trackpants took the brunt of Steele's liquid assault. Steele fell back towards the bed, hissing as his ass made contact with the itchy hotel carpet. That made Toby laugh, and Steele joined him.
The moment was broken by Toby's cellphone ringing. He almost tripped trying to get to it, his pants around his ankles and trunks around his knees. He barely missed Jordan's call. A minute later, he played the message on speaker.
"Hey Toby, I just wanted to say thanks for all the work you've put in with me. Don't worry about Steele. My Dads say sooner or later, he will get his. Sorry you're stuck rooming with that prick. Anyway, congrats on being a National Champion! Next stop: Rio!"
The boys exchanged looks. Both ended up smiling and then laughing. Steele stood, wiping a splotch of cum from his face.
"Shower," he asked, his mischievous smile returning.
"That might be a little too gay for me," Toby chuckled.
Steele grabbed Toby by his non cum covered hand and led him to the bathroom.
"Let's not forget the old rule: what happens at a meet, stays at the meet."
© Copyright Nicholas Patrick June 30, 2015
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