Date: Thu, 16 Dec 2004 01:33:54 -0800 (PST)
From: Eros Zob <ofvenus@yahoo.com>
Subject: Used By Jocks 2

Disclaimer: The following story is for the most part a work of fiction.  A
few instances are drawn from actual events involving consenting persons 18
years or older, but no original names of people, or places have been used.
The following material deals with sexual situations involving homosexual
acts.  Other situations include bondage, S&M, and in order to make a more
compelling story line the situation takes place in a highschool setting.
It is not recommended that this material be viewed by persons under the age
of 18 or anyone else who does not wish to read a story involving acts of
homosexual sex.


Used by Jocks -- Part 2
by Eros


Chapter 3:
---Paul Greeves - Part One---

Earlier that morning around 8:00, long before the bathroom incident.  Paul
Greeves was frantically searching the hallway.

"Have you seen Joe?" he'd ask as he darted back and forth.  Occasionally
he'd scratch himself.  Had a camera been following him it would have
recorded exactly 54 instances of Paul scratching his crotch.  His search
took all of 3 minutes, which averaged out to one hand-to-crotch motion ever
3 seconds.  It wasn't uncommon for a teenage boy to scratch his balls of
course.  Teenage boys aren't always the most hygienic of human beings.  The
pubic hair had just come in last year and it could be a rather
uncomfortable addition to the already uncomfortable teenage body.  But that
wasn't why Paul was constantly fiddling with his balls.  He was in a great
deal of discomfort due to his underwear, not his year and a half old pubes.

Finally he found Joe.

"Hey I was looking for you man" Joe said.

"I was looking for you too" Paul responded more urgently.

"Time for you morning underwear check", Joe whispered as a grin grew across
his face.

"That's what I need to talk to you about, I can't do it man.  They're
driving me crazy.  I could barely fall asleep last night, and they smell,
and look so fucking bad I'm embarrassed to go to gym, second hour."

"So you're giving in on the bet?" Joe asked looking moderately
disappointed.

"Yeah, but since I went 3 weeks do you think I could get $75 for it?  I
went through hell for this."

"That wasn't the deal Paul" started Joe, "If you did it for a month I'd
give you 100 bucks, if you couldn't do it...you know."  He didn't want to
finish his sentence with the halls full of wandering students.

"Fuck, c'mon man that's fucking gross!"

"No, what's fucking gross is that you've been wearing the same pair of
underwear for 3 weeks." Joe pointed out while chuckling.

Paul paused for a moment considering what would probably happen to him if
he didn't comply.  "Ok, where?"

"The old locker room behind the coaches office, let's go"

This, of course, had been thought out before.  The "old" locker room was
inside the new one technically.  It was just further back.  It used to be
the only one the school had before the renovation when they decided to add
on to it.  This made the "old" locker room the "athlete" locker room, which
meant that during basketball games or football games the athletes had their
own private section where they could store their gear.  The lockers back
there were big enough to hold that sort of stuff, whereas the new ones up
front were only big enough to hold a set of clothes, a pair of shoes and a
bottle of deodorant.  It was ideal.  It was a status symbol to have one of
these gym lockers.  It meant you got a bigger locker, separation from the
non-jocks, and a wall between you and the coach.  As long as he stayed in
his office (which he always did), the only part of the locker room he could
see through his window was the new section.  This meant the athlete's
section was always full of more towel slapping and jock snapping, simply
because the coach could neither hear, nor see what was going on.

Paul had never even seen the place.  He was no jock.  He might have wanted
to be once he was a sophomore or a Junior, but as for now he was still
trying to figure out being a freshman at a new school.  He entered the room
like a claustrophobic enters an elevator: one step at a time.

Joe walked in like it was his bedroom shoving a cart of dirty towels to one
side as he made his way to his locker.

"Just to show you I'm a good sport, you can have my spare boxers once we're
done here, so you don't have to wear those nasty fuckin' undies all day."

"Thanks" Paul said, relieved.  He had tried to pretend to be cool, but the
thought of what was about to happen was terrifying him inside.

"Alright strip down, get that nasty shit off."  Joe commanded.

"No one'll be coming in here will they?" Paul said worried.  He was where
he didn't belong, doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, he
couldn't help but ask the question.

"You're worried someone will see you getting undressed in a locker room?
Take off yer clothes and get started, we've only got like 14 minutes before
the bell rings.

Paul wasn't completely convinced by Joe, but he At least took comfort in
knowing that the first two hours of gym were the underclassmen hours.  He
remembered it from back when he was filling out his class schedule.  He'd
wanted to have gym last hour so he didn't have to shower or worry about
looking like shit for the rest of the day.  But his advisor had told him
that Freshmen and Sophomore gym was mixed in the two first periods of the
day and the classes got slowly more advanced as the day went on.  So he
ended up taking second hour gym.

It was unlikely that any true "athletes" had gym this hour because most
underclassmen didn't take sports.  With that in mind he took of his shirt.
Exposed beneath, was the body of a surfer boy in training.  He was well
tanned and had the beginnings of a lean muscled torso.  But he was still a
boy especially compared to Joe who was only 2 years older.  Next Paul
removed his socks and shoes.  And finally looking quite embarrassed, he
slipped his jeans off, revealing the dirty tighty whities.

"Those are nasty man" said Joe from a few feet away.  He was still smiling
and propping his duffle bag up right on the bench next to him.

"Where should I do it?" Paul said, too scared to be annoyed or angry with
the perverted situation.

"Lay down on this bench"

Paul sat down on the bench straddling it with his legs then leaned back.

"Get to work" ordered Joe as he had a seat himself on the bench directly
adjacent.

Paul then slipped his soiled briefs off his little body, and set them on
his lower chest area.  Then with is right hand he began slowly pumping his
cock.  It wasn't quite coming to life, he was nervous.  He kept at it
though.  It suddenly began to grow a little it was now at a soft 4 inches
or so.  He began breathing harder, trying to get his cock in the mood.  He
kept pumping.  The smell from his dirty undies was wafting up towards him,
so he went to move them, but Joe got there first.

"Here, I got a better place for them."  With that he turned them inside out
and draped them over the unsuspecting freshman's face.  They stink was
unholy.  He was forced to inhale the rotten stench of his own crotch.  Old
piss, masturbation remnants, all the repulsive sweat that gives one's balls
that not so fresh feeling.  "You gotta keep em there till your ready, and
here's a little something to get things moving.  With that a splatter of
bubbly liquid landed on Paul's cock.  He wondered what it was.  It was kind
of warm.  Then he heard Joe clearing his throat, and again the wetness
increased.  It was slimy.  Joe had spit on Paul's dick for lubrication.  I
coulda done that myself thank you he thought, but used it anyway.  Soon
enough Paul's dick had grown to a rock hard 7 inches.  He stroked it from
pubes to head wildly.  Up and down, up and down.  Then pre-cum began oozing
out of his piss slit.

"Ok....I'm gonna cum.  I'm gonna cum!"  he announced.  Then, as per the
agreement, Paul lifted the stench- ridden briefs from off of his face and
quickly wrapped it around his cock head.  He squeezed his blue eyes shut
and stifled several deep moans.  "Ummmf, Uuuuuuh, Unh..."  His little body
convulsed as he shot a full load of cum into his own undies.  It was almost
over.  He was going to be glad to put on the older boy's boxers.  Then he
collapsed letting his hands fall to the floor beneath him as his head
tilted back onto the bench.  He was spent.  But his punishment had not
ended.

He opened his eyes to verify his next course of action, hoping against hope
that Joe had been joking.  But he opened his eyes to a different surprise.
Joe was filming the entire scene.  Once he had draped the undies on the
unsuspecting freshman's face, he had used his victim's blindness as an
advantage.  Producing a small camcorder from the book bag next to him he
hit record and got the whole scene.  Not only the masturbation, but the
undy sniffing, the "I'm gonna cum", the orgasm itself, and his release into
a pair of his own underwear.  All of it was on tape.

"Finish it Paul.  You lost, you gotta do it."  ordered Joe.

Paul was too spent and too pissed to argue.  He was half enjoying the first
few moments of post-orgasmic relaxation, only to find out he was more
humiliated than he realized.  But he knew he couldn't argue.  Joe had just
produced and directed his own leverage against any argument Paul could
make.  So with that, he pulled the cum soaked underwear off his cock, and
sat up.  He then opened the briefs exposing the puddle of teen spunk he had
just deposited into it for the camera, and slowly...ran his tongue through
it.

"Let's see it!" Joe chuckled.

Paul opened his mouth for the camera, and stuck his tongue out.  It was
covered in his own semen.

"Stick it out further!" barked Joe.

Paul extended his tongue as well as his humiliation.  It tasted awful.  It
was like every flavor mixed together.  It was musky and pungent and the
texture was like snot, he gagged as a drop from the back of his throat
flowed downward.  A dab of the creamy substance trickled down his bottom
lip and slowed to a stop right at the end of his chin.  Joe was hysterical
with laughter.

"Swallow." Joe directed.

Paul, with his mouth still gaping, took a deep breath, rolled his eyes into
the back of his head and gulped down his own warm creamy boy-spunk.  Once
he had finished Joe switched off the camera and replaced it in his duffle
bag.

"Ok here's the deal." he started "You're a pretty fucking good sport to go
through with that man.  You just swallowed your own fucking cum."  Paul
didn't need to be reminded of that, he needed Joe to get to the point.  "So
if you still want the 100 bucks I'll give it to ya..."

"Really?" Paul asked genuinely happier.

"Yeah...You just do one more thing for me, and you get the money. Don't
worry you won't swallow anything."

Paul was hesitant.  Sure it sounded good, the money part, but this
consequence was so much more up to the whims and imagination of Joe.  He
had agreed before, knowing he could wear a pair of underwear for a month.
He hadn't worried about a consequence, he already knew.  But this...  This
was scarier.

"Ok" the naked freshman said slowly while feigning hesitance.  He hoped to
avoid contact with the jock all together.  This would be easy.  They shook
on it right as the warning bell sounded.

"Oh, better get going" Joe said "gonna be late...At least....you are.  Come
here I wanna show you something"

Without letting the poor boy dress himself he led him, carrying his clothes
with him, to the farthest corner of the "old" locker room.  It was the
towel room right next to the "old" showers.  There were several empty
shelves and lots of pipes protruding from the walls which provided water to
the showers on the other side.  It was essentially a walk in closet.

"Good news: You don't have to go to class today.  Bad news: You'll be in
here."  The second Joe finished speaking he produced two sets of metal
handcuffs from his duffle bag, and latched one end of each to both of
Paul's wrists.  Paul was lost, he either hadn't caught what Joe had just
said, or didn't believe it.  Before he knew it both his hands were
handcuffed with two different pairs of cuffs and he was being secured to
two separate pipes above his head.  His hands were now spread out above
him.  His feet just touched the ground He formed the letter "Y" with his
naked body, as if asking, "Y" are you doing this to me?  Then before making
his exit, Joe pulled down his own gym shorts and removed his jockstrap.  He
unsheathed the cup from the fabric and stuffed the used strap into the cup.
He pulled his shorts up and then readied a strip of duct tape.  Finally he
secured the crotch muzzle to Paul's face effectively drowning out any
attempt he could possibly make to yell for help.

This towel closet was never stocked anymore, since the new one had been
built, so Joe wasn't worried about his little prisoner being discovered.
He made his way back towards his locker, picked up Paul's spent briefs and
stuffed them in his duffle bag, cum and all.  He now had a whole morning to
decide how he would use them.

Chapter 4
 Joe's Spare---

Joe and I rounded the corner, and entered the boy's locker room.

"My locker is in the back" Joe announced, as they passed by the steam
filled newer section, "I should have a clean pair of boxer's or something
for ya."

I'd never been in the "old" locker room before, though I'd always wondered
why it was such a source of reverence amongst the lower classmen.  We
passed the office of the coach, who didn't appear to be in and entered the
realm of the jock.  I had no idea of the events that had transpired with
Paul only seven hours earlier, but I knew poor he was without his
underwear.  Because, of course, I was wearing it.  I'm sure he wouldn't be
too happy to find out that it was in even worse condition now than it was
when I received it.  It was still squishing in my pants as I followed Joe
to his oversized locker.

"Here ya go man." he said producing a pair of blue boxers from his
locker. "If you wanna dry off first there's a towel room next to our
showers."

I snatched the boxers and headed for the door marked "T wel Ro m."  It was
right in between the showers and the laundry room I didn't see what was so
great about the old locker section.  Aside from the bigger lockers it was a
decaying dungeon that would take a barrel of napalm to renovate.

I opened the door to the darkened closet and reached in feeling around on
the shelves for a towel.  They were dusty.  This room didn't appear to have
contained anything, let alone towels, for quite some time.  I grew tired of
feeling around in the dark, and decided to find a light switch.  It was on
the wall outside the closet, next to the door.  I switched it on and
re-entered only to find that the room was void of towels.  Then I gazed
down towards the end of the little room only to find a bound and gagged,
naked surfer boy hanging from two pipes.  In his mouth was a discolored
jockstrap duct taped onto his face.  I recognized his scraggly brown hair.
It was Paul Greeves.  He begged me with his eyes to free him.  Then the
fact hit me.  This was the bet he lost with Joe, and there were no towels
to be found.  Joe had meant me to walk in on this.

I turned around suddenly, and there he was.  He'd stripped his shirt off
and stood before me in all his lean muscled splendor.  His hairless body
glistened with sweat from the steamy showers that had been used at the end
of last hour.  Several beads trickled down his taut stomach muscles and
collected on a narrow strip of pubic hairs that lead down into his pants.
It occurred to me at that inopportune moment that I had never even seen his
dick, let alone been sexually assaulted with it.  To think of all the sick
and twisted things he had done to me, but none of them sexual.  Simi had
fucked my face, so I couldn't help but wonder what was preventing Joe from
doing it too.  He had so many opportunities, and yet he opted for
watersports over fucking.

"I believe you too kind of know each other already?" He began with that
grin on his face again. Then he spoke over my shoulder, "Hey Paul I hope
you don't mind but this guy borrowed your underwear for a while today,
he'll give it back though.  Strip freshman"

It was Paul's underwear, and at the same time I was getting tired of
wearing them.  But mostly it was the extreme intimidation that was growing
in my belly that made me obey Joe's orders yet once again.  I slipped off
my shirt, then pulled my pants down before Joe stopped me.  He grabbed me
by the shoulders and forced me forward deeper into the tiny room wearing
only Paul's stained and used tighty whities.  I was face to face with the
naked boy hanging from the ceiling.

"He kind of got them a little dirty, sorry about that.  I'm sure he'll
clean 'em for ya later"

He then forced me to my knees which positioned my face directly in front of
Paul's dangling penis.  Something was beginning to bother me.  (More than
the constant awkward sexual situations) The underwear was wet in the back,
but the front was dry.  My cock wasn't shifting comfortably as I moved into
a knelt position.  Then it hit me.  That stranger had made me cum, back
when I was taped to the toilet.  My cock was fused to Paul Greeve's
underwear with my own cum.  I would be so embarrassed to take them off in
front of these two.  They would probably hear the ripping sound it was
bound to make as I unstuck my cock from the dirty underwear, or At least
see it.

"Alright.  You've got a choice, my little toilet sniffer.  We can either
toss a coin, or you can chose yourself."

He said this as if it was obvious what he was referring to.  I sheepishly
looked up at him trying to avoid staring at the nude boy in front of me.
"What am I choosing?"

"Well you owe Paul, so I'm thinking you should probably pay him back for
letting you use his undies"

Oh great.

"You either stick your face in his crotch, or his ass." Joe explained.  "I
guess if it's tails, that'll be the ass, if it's heads that'll be the
'head' huh?  Well?"

If I chose I'd have to admit to a preference.  There was no right choice.
Putting another guys dick in your mouth was about the most degrading and
humiliating act a freshman could endure.  The dick was from where Paul
pissed, and ejaculated.  But the ass.  The smell might be worse than
anything I'd endured thus far, and who knows how long I was supposed to be
expected to do this.  Joe was a patient torturer.  On the other hand if I
let the coin decide, I don't look as gay to Paul and Joe.  It would be as
if I was being forced to do something against my will.  Would a completely
normal all American straight guy chose himself, or let a coin decide?  I
had no idea.  Do I cling on to the last bit of freedom Joe is offering me,
and prevent what could be an hour's worth of ass smell?  Or do I try to
avoid presenting a preference?  Fuck it, I wanted his dick in my mouth.
Why take a chance?

"Crotch" I said quietly and assuredly.

Joe shook his head seriously and said, "Good choice" He then reached behind
him on the shelf and fumbled through his duffle bag until he found our old
friend Mr. duct tape, and a roll of waterproof bandage wrap.  Then he
turned back to us.  "Put his dick in yer mouth."

I turned back to Paul and hesitantly reached up for his 4 inches of soft
cock.  I took it in between my fingers and opened my mouth wide for it,
slowly inching myself further and finding a comfortable position.  But Joe
interrupted me.

"C'mon didn't Simi teach you anything.  You lick a guy's nutsac before you
put his dick in yer mouth.  C'mon that's just proper etiquette."

I paused where I was, inches from being a cock sucker for the second time
today and sighed in nervous frustration.  I then lifted his cock upward and
plopped his balls into my mouth.  They weren't quite as hairy as Simi's but
they had a hint of it.  They were softer and smaller than Simi's too.  They
didn't taste any better though.  I slowly massaged each one with my tongue
before letting them slip out of my lips slowly and slurping them back up
again.  After a while I heard a muffled moan from above me.  Paul's eyes
were closed, and he was softly and uncontrollably moaning through the
jockstrap muzzle over his mouth.  I no longer had to hold his cock out of
my way, it was half hard.  He was enjoying it.

Then the sound of slamming lockers alerted Joe to the presence of the
basketball team. "Fuck I'm gonna be late for practice" Joe said,
urgently. "Get yer mouth around his little dick, I gotta hurry."

I let his balls flop out of my mouth.  Paul let out a short shudder, and
then a gasp as I took his cock into my mouth.  It still wasn't completely
hard, but it was almost there.  Then from behind me I heard the all too
familiar sound of duct tape.  "Tztztztztzsht" He walked up.

He first pushed my head further down on Paul's cock until my nose was
stuffed into his pubic hair, then he wrapped the waterproof bandage around
us securing my head to his pelvis.  Then the duct tape finished the job
assuring that I couldn't move.  Paul's dick was still half erect and
breathing was smelly and difficult, but as long as my nose remained
unobstructed I could still manage.  Actually I could still lift open my
lips, but when I did loose hairs entered my mouth and made the whole
situation more uncomfortable.  Then the job was finished by taping my hands
together behind my back.

Joe got up to leave.  I heard his footsteps sprinting for the door then
suddenly he stopped and returned.

"Almost forgot" Joe said.  I looked upwards where I could still make out
Paul's upper torso and head.  I saw Joe rip the jockstrap off Paul's face
and put a water bottle up to his mouth.  "I've been keepin' him hydrated
for ya man, all day long."

Shit.

He then reassembled the jockstrap, putting the cup back inside the pouch
and backed out of my view.  He must have been putting it on, since he was
going to practice.

"Let us go man, this is starting to hurt my arms!" shouted Paul, finally
free from the jockstrap muzzle.

Then suddenly Joe was at my waist tugging on Paul's abused underwear.  No,
not the underwear!  My cock was cum-fused to it!  He tugged the back down
then flipped his thumbs underneath the elastic at my front and tugged.  He
definitely noticed the resistance.  Then a sound almost like velcro sounded
throughout the room.  My cock had just been ripped out of Paul's cum
stained underwear.  I winced, almost biting down on the cock wedged in my
mouth.  Joe just giggled and stuffed the underwear in Paul's mouth,
replacing the duct tape he had used earlier.  Paul wrenched his head back
and forth, the taste must have been ten times worse than Joe's jockstrap.
Then, he left.  I was now naked too.

Paul continued wriggling his head back and forth.  He was no doubt
disgusted with the rancid replacement muzzle.  Then to our surprise the
tape began slipping.  Evidently in Joe's haste he hadn't replaced it
properly, plus it was used duct tape.  He had simply torn it off the jock
and reused it.  The middle section was slipping downward slowly until
finally it reached his lower chin.

Paul quickly, yet awkwardly, spit out his own underwear from his mouth.

"Bluuuch, that was fuckin' nasty."

He heaved in and out in relief.  It was the first lucky break he'd had all
day.  If it was a competition between us he definitely outscored me 1 to
zip.

"You ok?" he asked.

I nodded as carefully as possible considering I held his junk in my mouth.

"Sorry you had to...you know." He was still breathing heavily.  Something
was wrong.  Then he spoke more urgently "Is there anyway you can get it out
of yer mouth man?"

 I carefully shook my head no.  Joe had been thorough, as was usually the
case.

"Then we got a problem man" he said, his voice cracking.  "I gotta fuckin'
piss...bad.  I've had to go since before lunch and he kept coming in and
giving me more water.  I was drinking it cause the jockstrap tasted so bad,
but now I gotta pee."

I froze, staring straight forward into his pubic hair.  Why the fuck is
this even happening to me?  Whatever the reason it appeared inevitable.  I
was again going to endure the wrath of Joe's piss fetish.  But this time he
wasn't even here!  I struggled as best I could to back my head away from
his cock, but it was still semi-hard.  It wasn't going anywhere.  In fact
the more I struggled the more it seemed to harden.  I was stimulating him.

Then trying to change the subject Paul started speaking again.  "I don't
believe he made you suck my balls.  That was weird."

He said weird.  He didn't say fucking gross, or wrong, or disgusting.  He
said weird.

"I hope, I hope you don't blame me man?  I know I got....I know I got hard
and everything, but...It was just...you know"

Awkward...

"I'm not saying it didn't feel good..." He paused realizing what he may
have just led me to believe.  "I mean anyone would...you know."

Why won't he shut up?

"I don't know how much longer I can hold this man..."

Fuck

"Should I yell for help?  Or would that be...stupid?" He was nervous.  He
was afraid of pissing in my mouth.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't think either of us want's to be seen like this right?"

I nodded.

"Fuck, it hurts.  I gotta go."  He was heaving.  It was all he could do to
hold it in.  I could feel his penis pulsing in my mouth.  He was using
every muscle in his lower body possible to prevent the inevitable.  I
decided to make it easier on the poor guy.  After all he could probably
hurt himself, and he was so nervous it was adorable.

"Gow Aheamb" I mumbled around his cock.

He gave a nervous chuckle.  "Did you say go ahead?"  He was so relieved it
was like I was telling him someone the tumor was malignant.

I nodded.

"Fuck, I'm sorry man"

Then his soft dick, moist in my mouth, stopped quivering.  He exhaled a
long breath of air as if concentrating.  Then he slowly let out a small
stream of urine directly onto the back of my tongue.  It was slow at first
and the taste was, of course, slightly familiar.  It went right down my
throat.  Then without warning he let loose.  He couldn't hold it back.  His
bladder had a mind of it's own.  A torrent of warm piss splashed into the
back of my throat flooding my mouth.  Some of it managed to get down my
throat and the rest seeped out of my lips and flowed down my chin to my
chest and eventually down to my crotch and then the floor.  He just
wouldn't stop.  Pint after pint of tangy, salty, musky, hot piss.  It
reeked.  Then he surprised me again.  He hadn't let it go full stream yet.
But he wanted to get the situation over apparently so he blasted me.  This
time more went down my throat and the rest again down my naked body and
also running over into his own pubic hair and dripping down his balls.  He
was pissing both of us now.  Finally his stream slowed to a trickle and out
of some unexplained instinct I sucked on his cock head until he had gotten
it all out.  He let out an involuntary chuckle at that.

"Ok I'm done" he sighed. "I'm so fucking sorry man, at least most of it
spilled out right?"

I choked down the remaining drops of piss, and gently nodded yes.  He had
no real idea what I'd just been through.  I felt used, like a urinal, and I
smelled like one.

So there I was, duct taped to the private parts of a cute surfer boy.  I
couldn't get the pungent taste of his piss out of my mouth and he couldn't
stop fidgeting.  Then finally I realized why.  My mouth had dried out, and
I was constantly repositioning my tongue so that it wouldn't stick to his
cock.  Instead I was stimulating him.  He was getting hard again, and my
guess is he was probably too embarrassed to tell me what was going on.  Or
he liked it.

An hour or more must have passed.  And though Paul had been struggling and
fidgeting, I was poised and concentrating on the delicate situation in my
mouth.  My jaw was getting sore from being open for such a prolonged amount
of time.  I couldn't lower it without clamping down on his cock.  I'd
grazed it a few times already with my teeth, but nothing that caused him
discomfort.  He hadn't talked much since he relieved himself in my mouth,
and I was trying my best not to get a stiffy.  We both wanted to be freed,
but part of me was relishing having the young twink's half-erect cock in my
mouth.  I wanted to get him harder, I wanted to suck him off, but that
couldn't be written-off as a necessary eventuality like the whole pissing
incident.  That would definitely make me look gay.  I resisted the urge.

Then a locker slam broke the silence.  Slowly the raucous sounds of a
gradually filling locker room made it's way into our chamber.  The team had
returned from practice.  Joe would have to free us soon.  Then the pipes
that Paul's handcuffs were linked too began to hum and shake.  They were in
the showers.  Maybe Joe was waiting for his teammates to leave before he
attended to his captives.

To Be Continued...

Questions or Comments?  Contact Eros: ofvenus@yahoo.com