Date: Tue, 21 Aug 2001 23:40:16 -0400 From: the devil Subject: Making A Man Out Of Mark, Part I It began in the fall of Mark's eighth grade year, while he was in his front yard playing football with five of his friends. Well, three of his friends and two other kids that just came along to make the game more interesting. Mark's little brother, who was nine, had wanted to play but the older kids wouldn't let him, so he just watched. They all lived in a small town in New England, and so of course there wasn't much else to do besides play football. The boys played for about half an hour. Mark, who was the best of the group, player quarterback. His team was winning 27-3 when they decided to break it up. The other team was getting bored. They started to go back in the house when they noticed somebody watching them. It was Coach Walker from the high school, and he seemed to be sizing Mark up. "Hey," he said. "Hey," said Mark. "You're pretty good," said the coach, "you know that?" "Thank you," said Mark, blushing a little. He looked down. "You gonna try out for the team next year?" "Yeah, I thought I'd give it a try," said Mark. "Good, good, glad to hear it," said the coach. "I'll be happy to have you on the team." "Thanks," said Mark. He didn't know what else to say. "Why don't you meet me after school one day, and we can have a talk?" "Sure," said Mark. "Meet me in my office. It's in the basement of the high school, it's easy enough to find." "Sure," said Mark. "Well, I'll be seeing you then," said the Coach. "Yeah, I'll see you then." The other boys didn't know what to say as the Coach left and they walked back into the house. Of course Mark was going to be on the team; he was a good player, and in a town so small there wasn't all that much competition. But still, to have the Coach just come up to you was something to brag about. Mark went to meet the Coach that Wednesday after school. The schools were only a two minute walk away from one another, but Mark had never been inside the high school before. He wasn't that impressed, but really he had other things on his mind. Like playing football. He found the Coach's office easily enough. There were only five or six rooms in the basement, and the rest of them were all art rooms with stained glass windows and ceramic instillations inside. The coach's door was open, but Mark knocked anyway. The older man was sitting at his desk scribbling something, and seemed startled. But when he looked up he broke into a smile. "Oh, it's you," he said. "Come on in, sit down. Close the door." Mark did as he was told, and found himself sitting in a low chair with the coach looking at him carefully across the desk. "So, how are you?" the Coach asked. His skills at making conversation weren't very remarkable, so he only used them when he had to. "I'm good," Mark said. He wasn't a very good talker either, plus he was pretty shy. "Well, let me get right down to it," said Coach Walker. "You can be on the team next year, no question. Now what I'd like to offer you is some extra training. You can come to the school here and work out whenever you want. You're gonna need to be on a meal plan, but not yet. You can get started now, gradually, so you don't scare your mother too much." He started to laugh a little. "If there's one thing I hate it's when mothers of kids on my team get too bossy." Mark tried to laugh, too, although it wasn't very funny. Still, he knew what the Coach meant about mothers being a pain in the ass. Just the day before his mother had been cleaning his room and had found his stash of Hustlers. She didn't say anything about it, but he knew she'd seen them. "Let me put it to you this way, Mark. If you join the team, you're going to be mine. I'm going to tell you what to do, and you're going to do it. I won't let you let the rest of the team down, and I won't let you let me down. Got that?" Mark was surprised by the Coach's abrupt change of tone; he just nodded. "Now I mean it, whatever I say goes and that's final." "Okay," said Mark, wondering where this would lead. "Have I got your word on that?" "Yeah," said Mark. "Swear it." "I swear it." "You swear what?" "I swear that I won't let you down, and that I won't let the team down." "Good," said the Coach. "Very good. Take off your shirt, lemme see what kind of muscles you got there." Mark stood up and did as he was told. The Coach walked around him, studying the boy's body. He had nice pecs and well-developed arms for a thirteen-year old. His abs could use work, but even they weren't bad. "Flex," said the coash. Mark flexed. Good amount of armpit hair, the Coach noted. He was ready to see the next step now. "You know Mark, if you're really serious, I can make something out of you. If you put all your effort into the game you're gonna go far. You'll get into college for free, and after that...." He paused for effect. "Who knows?" "R-really?" Mark's mind was spinning. This was amazing. This guy really had faith in him, and he could go as far as he wanted, as long as he did what the Coach said. "Drop your pants," is what the coach said. "Huh?" Mark said. "Your legs, I wanna see your legs." "Oh," said Mark, who pulled his pants down. He was wearing a pair of boxers that showed off his ass. The Coach took a look at the thirteen-year old in front of him. Yes, he'd do very nicely, the Coach thought, as his own pants began to bulge noticably. Mark did notice, and he started to turn red. "Ummm," is all he could manage, not really knowing what was going on. "Now don't get nervous, boy," said the Coach, a little bit distressed that Mark wasn't visibly excited at all. "Everybody's got to do this, so just relax." He patted Mark's ass, and Mark whirled around to face him. "Listen, I don't know what you're doing, but I don't want to be part of it. I'm not a fag." Mark thought maybe this was some kind of test of his manhood, and that he'd pass by showing he wasn't a cocksucker. "Of course you're not. I'm not a fag, either," said the Coach. "Whatever gave you that idea?" "Oh. Oh, sorry," said Mark. "I thought you were looking at me to, you know." "No, I don't know. To what?" "To..." Mark was very red now. "To jack off later or something." "Sit down," said the Coach, and Mark did, without pulling his pants up. The Coach began a speech he'd begun many times before. "Now you want to play football, is that right?" Mark nodded. "And you live in this town, don't you?" Mark nodded again. "Now the only way to play football in this town is to play for my team, right?" Mark nodded once more. "And you already swore you'd do what I told you, didn't you?" "Yeah," said Mark, quietly. "Now don't get all upset. I'm not a fag and I'm not going to rape you." "Okay," Mark said. "However, there are some things that are gonna need to be cleared up. When you are part of a team you get to know every member of that team, and you get to know them in ways you'll never know anybody again. You will see them in the shower and they will see you in the shower. Now, I'm going to let you in on something, but only because you've already told me that you're going to be a part of the team." Mark just stared. "I like my boys to have fun, and I like to know what they're up to, at all times. And sometimes I know my boys get, well, frustrated, and they don't play as well. So they help each other out. If one player's feeling down another player will do what he can to relieve the tension, get it? For the good of the team." Mark thought he knew what the Coach was saying, but he wasn't really sure. He tried to say it. "They... fuck each other?" "Well, yeah, boy. They fuck each other. And they'll fuck you and you'll fuck them. It's all part of being on a team." "You're not serious," said Mark, who'd never fucked anything but his own hand before. "Yes, I'm serious. Stand up, boy." Mark reluctantly stood up. The Coach walked towards him, put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Now I"m going to kneel down, and I'm going to suck your cock. Just to show you." "No," Mark said. "Yes," said the Coach. "Trust me, you'll like it." They were looking each other in the eye, and Mark could detect something in the Coach's stare that made him believe that it really would be okay. "Okay," Mark said. "Great!" said the Coach, on his knees. "Welcome to the team!" The Coach didn't delay in pulling the boy's boxers off. Mark's dick was totally limp, but that gave the Coach a chance to study that, too. It was well-formed, with a wide head and a wide shaft. The Coach ran his fingers through the boy's pubic hair, picked up his dangling balls in his other hand. All in all the boy would do pretty well. "So you like girls?" the Coach asked. "Yeah," said Mark, trying to pretend that he was in the doctor's office and that this was all normal. "Ever see a pussy?" "No," said Mark. "I like pussy," said the Coach. "My wife's got the tightest snatch you'll ever see." "Oh yeah?" said Mark. He knew who the Coach's wife was. All the boys did, since she was all anybody in the town ever thought about when they jacked off. She was hot. "And you will see her, too," said the Coach, enticingly. "What do you mean?" "Oh, didn't I mention that part?" The Coach looked up at Mark, who was getting hard just thinking about the Coach's wife. "At the end of the season the whole team comes to my house and gets a crack at her." "WHAT?!" said Mark, whose dick sprang up like a rocket. "Uh-huh," said the Coach, who then began to circle the head of Mark's dick with his lips. Mark quivered. "She lets the whole team fuck her?" "Yeah," said the Coach. "She loves it. We both do," he said, and began to attack Mark's dick full-force. It was only a minute or two before Mark came. It was the first time he'd ever come on somebody that wasn't himself. He was ecstatic. He'd loved it. The Coach, of course, loved it too. He loved the feel of Mark's cock in his mouth, he loved sucking on the boy's balls, and he loved pulling the prick out of his mouth just before the boy shot his load, so that it got all over his face. "See," said the Coach? "Nothing to it." Mark was dazed. Had he really just let a forty-year old man give him a blowjob? And, had he really LIKED it?