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. 

 

Please donate to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html if you can!

 

I am sorry for the long break. I was out of the country for work. I tried to write this chapter quickly because I am still a bit swamped. So the chapter is a bit short unfortunately.

 

I would like to give a special thanks to Gustav Rennick again for helping me edit this chapter. You can check out his stories here on nifty.

 

Let me know if you liked it by emailing me at philip.faras@gmail.com. I appreciate all your emails.

 

Training a Jock Slut – Chapter 12

 

Brody is a star

 

Brody woke up with a start as his alarm clock rang. He groaned and turned it off. His body was still sore from last night's abuse. He lifted up his sheets and looked down at his jock body. There were no obvious marks that would make Coach suspicious. He reached down and felt his tender asshole. To his surprise, it felt as tight as always. Brody was sure his ass had been irreversibly stretched out after yesterday's numerous poundings. However, his nipples were still pink and puffy from the torture they had received. Hopefully Coach would not notice.

 

Brody looked at the time and panicked. It was only five minutes until his morning training with Kevin. He pulled on a tight cotton tank top as ordered. His nipples poked right through the thin material. But there was nothing he could do about that. He then pulled off his jockstrap and grabbed the running shorts Mr. Fields had given him.

 

Brody knew instantly something was wrong the moment he tried to put on the green shorts. His thick thighs barely squeaked past the leg hole. He took a closer look and realised the garment was one size too small. Brody cursed himself for not checking the size at the store. But now it was too late.

 

He squeezed himself into the tiny shorts as best as he could. His ass was relatively covered, although a bit of his crack was exposed on top. But the front of the shorts was another matter. Brody's meaty package strained the shorts. It looked absolutely obscene. He tried to adjust himself by placing his cock down one of the shorts' legs. But the positioning was precarious. He was sure that one step out of place would send his family jewels tumbling out for all to see. But time was running out and he knew making Kevin wait would be a bad idea. He made his way to the front yard for his workout.

 

"The fag will probably like the view anyway," Brody muttered to himself bitterly.

 

And he was right about that. Kevin was practically drooling as he saw Brody in his ordered attire. He made Brody do extremely rigorous sets, watching the jock's meat flop around all over the place. Then, Kevin discovered something that made him giddy with excitement. Every time he made Brody do lunges, he was rewarded with the delicious sight of the jock's cock and balls popping out of the shorts' leg. And it was not a simple peek. The shorts rode up so high during a lunge that Brody's entire cock and heavy ball sack were exposed.

 

And so, Kevin decided his student needed to do lunges for the rest of the training session. Brody knew his junk was flopping out every time he lunged forward. His face had turned red from embarrassment but he kept going. He did not want to anger the little tyrant.

 

And Kevin definitely noticed the jock's compliancy. The power started getting to his head and he pushed the envelope further. First, he placed his hand on Brody's back, now damp with sweat. Brody wanted to turn around and punch the asshole in the face. But he kept on going with the lunges.

 

Kevin's own five inch was now rock hard in his pants. His hand slowly moved down and stopped over one of Brody's beautiful ass cheeks.

 

`That's it, Brody. Keep up the good work. I want you to feel the burn right here," Kevin barked, as he gave Brody's ass a hard slap.

 

Brody gritted his teeth with irritation but refused to make a sound. Coach was watching them through his window and would not hesitate to punish Brody. Brody's knees buckled slightly when he felt Kevin's lithe fingers brush past the exposed part of his crack.

 

"That's it. You keep working out like this and your ass will get more powerful. Then you will be unbeatable at your wrestling meets."

 

Kevin's crotch was now practically pressed into Brody's ass every time he stepped up from his lunges. Brody could feel the pervert's hard cock pressing into him. The jock was fuming. How dare this punk humiliate him like this?

 

"Keep up the pace! Stop slacking off. I want to see your cheeks turn red from working out!"

 

Kevin was so horny he could not think straight. For some inexplicable reason, the school alpha jock was not wailing on his ass, even after all the groping. By now, Kevin was so filled with lust that he threw caution to the wind and slid his hand underneath Brody's shorts and grabbed a handful of the glorious rear. The shorts were so tight that his hand barely squeaked past them. Luckily for Kevin, the sweat covering the jock's muscle ass provided enough lubrication for him to eke his hand into the confined space.

 

For a second, Kevin thought Brody was going to turn around and punch him. But to his surprise, the jock only faltered for a few seconds before resuming his exercise. Kevin did notice the hunk's neck turn red to match his face.

 

Still incredulous, Kevin started kneading the teen ass in his left hand. And again, Brody made no signs of protest. Kevin felt absolutely glorious. Now completely emboldened, he barked to Brody with increased authority.

 

"All right stop. I can feel that your ass has worked out enough. Let me just give it a quick rub down so you aren't too sore."

 

And before Brody knew it, the freshman had stuck both his hands into the back of Brody's shorts. Each hand grabbed a generous handful of ass-meat and started to massage each cheek. Brody was certain his too tight shorts were going to rip. With the younger teen's hands stuffed into the back, the green shorts had ridden up painfully high in the front. Brody felt his thick soft cock and hefty balls get squashed by the thin material.

 

 As much as Brody was humiliated, the sensations from the ass kneading were making his eyes roils back. Unbeknownst to Brody, the latest course of stimulant running through his veins made him more sensitive than before. His nipples tingled from only the cotton tank top touching them. And a simple squeeze of the ass almost made him moan.

 

In addition to the rough ass manhandling, Brody felt Kevin start humping his shorts-clad ass. Within a few seconds, he felt Kevin's body spasming against his. Brody hung his head low as he let a kid younger than him use his body like a sex toy.

 

Kevin withdrew his hands from Brody's shorts and caught his breath. He looked down at his softening tent and adjusted himself. A large wet patch had formed at the front of his shorts. He tried to cover himself as he hobbled over to his bike.

 

"All right, Brody. Good workout. I will see you same time tomorrow. And why don't you wear a jock next time? Your junk is falling out all over the place."

 

Brody nodded grimly at Kevin's humiliating remarks. He looked down and realised his own cock was half-hard and pointing straight out of his shorts. He looked up and saw Kevin on his bike, grinning at him. With a wave, Kevin pedalled off home. He was rock hard again. He could not wait for tomorrow's session. He wondered if he could touch Brody's impressive balls next.

 

Brody remained standing in his front yard, knowing he had to wait. As Kevin disappeared out of sight, Coach made his way to his slut. He grabbed Brody's semi-hard bulge and gave it a tight squeeze, causing the jock to hunch over in pain.

 

Brody took off his shorts and started getting down to his knees, knowing a hard fucking was going to follow. But Coach stopped him and handed him a bag instead.

 

"Put on a show for me in your room," he growled into his bitch's ear.

 

Brody grabbed the bag and his shorts and walked into his house, knowing full well what Coach meant. He got to his room and adjusted the webcam. He saw Coach was online, and had just sent him a message:

 

"Get it all inside you. You have twenty minutes."

 

Brody's confusion was cleared when he looked inside the bag. It was a bunch of plastic beads, all connected together with some space in between.. Each bead was slightly bigger than a golf ball. And there were eight of them in total. Brody's eyes widened at the sex toy. It was something he had never seen before. And it looked absolutely vile. He could not even fathom their purpose until he remembered Coach's note. He took a deep breath and laid down on his bed, his legs spread wide and held close to his chest.

 

Back in Coach's room, the older muscle hunk watched his slut get on his back and spread his legs. The number of people watching had exceeded 85,000. Brody's cam shows were a real hit and his audience was ever-increasing. The gay cam site that Brody was unknowingly part of had started featuring the jock as one of their top performers.

 

Today, Coach watched as the thousands of men hurled filthy comments at the sweaty jock in the chatroom. Brody, oblivious to his exhibitionism, had started lubing up the beads. He had only fifteen minutes left to get all of the monstrosity inside him. He looked through his uncovered window and saw the Reverend watching him, languidly pulling on his own meat.

 

Brody turned his head back to the webcam and looked directly into the lens as ordered. He tried to ignore the old man ogling him. He hated being watched while he defiled his teen jock body. But little did he know how many eyes were truly on him.

 

He bit his lower lip and forced the first bead into his quivering hole. After a lot of grunting and huffing, Brody gasped as his hole finally dilated and quickly swallowed up the glossy ball. But Brody had no time to rest, he quickly started working on the next anal bead.

 

The chat room was exploding with excitement. Countless perverted men watched the beautiful hunk stuff his cunt with the obscenely large beads. His handsome face was scrunched up with effort and concentration as he slowly pushed each anal bead into his winking hole.

 

Finally, Brody had managed to fit all eight beads into his overstuffed ass. He grunted with discomfort as he presented his ass to the webcam, clearly showing that the only thing sticking out was the small plastic handle. He jumped when his phone rang. As he picked up the phone gingerly, he heard Coach on the other end:

 

"Yank it out in one go. Or else you are going to be really sorry."

 

Brody whimpered and hung up. Still pointing his ass at the camera, he used his trembling right hand to grab the plastic ring handle peeking out of his straining sphincter. The feeling of dread was overwhelming.

 

But Brody knew that any pain he felt now would pale in comparison to what Coach would put him through for not obeying him. He grabbed a blanket using his free hand and stuffed it into his mouth.

 

With a deep breath, he bit down hard and yanked out the beads inside him. Pain erupted through his body. Brody could not help but scream. He blinked back stars as he felt his abused ass gape helplessly. As the pain subsided, so did the tears streaming down his beautiful face. He looked into the camera once more and flashed a pearly-white smile he knew Coach liked.

 

Coach could not contain himself as he saw his slut's tear-stained face break into a half-hearted smile. His thick cock shot stream after stream of hot man juice. And judging by the online comments, many other men had done the same.

 

Coach smiled wickedly as he saw the number of viewers in the chat room steadying at nearly 130,000 now.

 

"The kid is a fucking star," Coach mused to himself. He could not wait to make him an even bigger one.

 

 

Brody's new house rules

 

Brody's face was a bright red as his father started taking the last of his measurements. This was the third time Hank was recording his son's body measurements at Coach's request. He had never had this done when he was a jock. But Coach said times were different and all the boys in the team needed to record their musculature regularly.

 

And Hank, being the doting father he was, did not protest. He was on his knees as he wrapped the measuring tape around Brody's inner thighs, just like Coach instructed. Above him, Brody was sweating bullets. He kept thinking of things that would kill any potential erections. The situation was humiliating enough. He did not need to pop a boner. Especially when his father's face was right in front of his crotch.

 

Compounding the awkwardness of the situation was the fact that Brody was forced to strip down to his underwear. If he were wearing his regular boxers, this would have not been nearly as embarrassing for Brody. But Coach's tricks had now forced Brody to wear the tightest pair of spandex bikini briefs for the foreseeable future.

 

Hank took the final measurements, not noticing that his hands were constantly jostling his son's package. He was concentrating more on getting the readings right. At long last, all the measurements were complete and Hank got up. Brody immediately brought his hands down and covered his bulge. The briefs he now wore left very little to the imagination. And he felt extremely uncomfortable showing off his massive bulge and parts of his bush to his father.

 

But to his shock, Brody's father got an angry look on his face as he slapped Brody's hands away.

 

"You need to quit that, boy. Your coach called me up yesterday and told me that you are getting a reputation in the team of being a wuss. That you always hide in the stalls when you shower and change. He tells me that the other boys are making jokes about you not being a real man. There is no way my flesh and blood will be called a homo. You got it, boy!?"

 

Brody was incredulous. What lies was Coach telling his father? He wanted to say something but his father cut him off.

 

"What are you so ashamed of, boy? You are Grade A, prime beef. Just like your father. They used to call me `Hank the Tank' in school. Men don't care about being naked around other men. I know I didn't when I was in school. So being in your underwear should be easy. Unfortunately, the fruity underwear you and your teammates are wearing are a bit too flamboyant for my tastes."

 

Brody's turned an even brighter red as he saw his father pointing to his spandex clad basket. This situation was absolutely mortifying.

 

Hank noticed his son's colouring and became even more irritated.

 

"Ok, boy. It looks like we need to follow Nate's advice to fix this situation. Your coach thinks that the best way for you to overcome your fears is to face them head on. And I trust that man. So it's time for some new house rules. The moment you step into the door, you take off all your clothes except your underwear. You will wear nothing else at home. Both Nate and I agree you need to be comfortable in your skin around other men. I have been neglecting my fatherly duties too long. I can't have everyone thinking my son is a poofter. Got it, Brody?"

 

Brody nodded glumly. His father, he realized, was a foolish man. He could not believe how easy it was for Coach to manipulate him.

 

Then he felt his father pulling him in for a hug. Brody felt really uncomfortable as his most of his exposed body was pressed against his father's muscular frame.

 

"Cheer up, kiddo. I am only doing this for your own good," Hank tried to reassure his visibly upset son.

 

"Besides, this won't be too bad. Nate actually suggested that you remain naked at home. But some modesty is required for a good Christian young man. So what you are wearing now is fine, even if it is a bit revealing. However, it is a small price to pay for your overall betterment. We need to nip the rumours in the bud, boy. You don't want the town spreading stories.

 

If only he knew what people were saying about his perfect son now.

 

 

 Any ideas or suggestions? Send to philip.faras@gmail.com. I have appreciated all your responses so far.