Date: Sat, 18 May 2019 14:47:08 -0500 From: Kenneth Kirk Subject: Training the Coopers Chapter 19 The Cooper Twins Training the Coopers Author's Note: This is a work of fiction and any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended. The author maintains full copyright of this material and licenses the use of it by Nifty.org as specified in information on the website. Please do not use it in any other published manner without the permission of the author. As this is erotic fiction featuring male to male sexuality, please leave this site if such stories are offensive to you. Please note that this story features sex between relatives of various connections. If this offends you, please leave this site. Some of the characters in this story are under age. If this offends you or is illegal in your jurisdiction, please leave this site. I have followed Nifty policy regarding these matters. If you are under age in your jurisdiction, please leave this site at once. If you enjoy this story and others like it, please consider contributing to support Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html . Thank you! I hope you enjoy this story, which concerns a rather unusual family that trains its adolescent sons in sexual practices. To add realism to the story, much of the story is set in real cities and places of business. No implication that these places are accepting of homosexuality is implied. Should you visit any of them, please maintain normal caution and do not assume you will be accepted. This story is set in the late 1960's and early 1970's, before the AIDS crisis began. Therefore, it is strictly condom-free. However, please note that neither the author nor Nifty.org is encouraging men of the 21st century to ignore the consequences of unprotected sex. Please love yourself and your future partners enough to be careful! Just so you know, this story has 34 chapters, so please keep reading and feel free to send me your feedback or comments. None of the story has been posted until it is complete. Posting on Nifty takes a while, but the entire story will be posted in due time. This story is the backstory of characters who will be included in a book to be published in the Fall, 2019, tentatively titled "The Deputy Boys Book 2: The Induction." The story of the Cooper Family is entirely separate from this book, although several Coopers are characters in that book. At the beginning of each chapter and occasionally within the chapter, you will see a name written on a line by itself with no explanation. This is the name of the author of that section. The point of view shifts between various members of the family to tell the most detailed story. Hopefully, this will not prove confusing to you. Without further ado, enjoy "Training the Coopers"! Best Wishes, Kenneth Kirk Chapter 19 Daniel Hello, dear readers! It's me, Daniel, the middle son of five, the one you haven't heard from yet. As the summer progressed to the beginning of August, I got a fairly good idea of what constituted the secret training Darrel was putting my older brothers through. Having been long aware of my complete disinterest in girls, except as great friends, and a longing to be intimate with guys, I was very excited about getting into my own training process. And, it was finally here! Dad, Uncle Darrel, David, and Donald came dragging into the house a little after 3 a.m. that Sunday morning. I was in David's double bed with Dwayne and Dwight when David flicked on the ceiling light. He looked shocked to see us and a little uncomprehending at first. I think he was exhausted. He stared a minute, then flicked off the light and went into the room I shared with Donald. Obviously, since we had his bed, he took mine. What was very different is that it had been weeks and weeks since either Dave or Don had slept in their own beds. When the twins and I woke up a little before 8 the next day, we peed and quietly went downstairs to the kitchen, where we had cereal and orange juice. It was already over 80 degrees outside, so we threw on our shorts and flip-flops and went down to the swimming hole. I left a note on the refrigerator so the others would know where we were when they finally stirred. We hung out down there where we could make all the noise we wanted without getting anybody upset. I loved hanging with the twins. They were sweet kids, kind and affectionate and I felt that I had a special bond with them the others lacked, though I didn't know what it was or why the others didn't share it. We lay in the shade of some sycamore trees for a couple of hours, talking about how much Dad had changed recently and how happy that made us. That led us down a path of exploring our own grief and how unexpectedly slow the process was for us. Mom had always kept a special place in her heart for the twins. The youngest, I guess. Anyhow, they were only 10 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer and for a while couldn't comprehend that she was extremely sick. She seemed a little melancholy to me, a bit more protective of us boys, sometimes clingy, and maybe a little tired. The twins didn't seem to sense it as much. Since Mom stayed active for the first few months, it felt like the diagnosis had been a nightmare and that we had woken up to a different reality. Of course, reality is reality and ours was that our mother, the center focus of our family, was slowly slipping away from us. I think we all realized the situation at Christmastime that year. The twins were 10 and I was about 13 and a half. I didn't really get it until we put up the Christmas tree about two weeks before Christmas. Mom had always made it a big party with popcorn, spiced apple cider, and other goodies. She would carefully unpack the ornaments from their flimsy boxes and hand them to each of us, one at a time. That ornament would get put on the tree and usually moved a couple of times until finally, by consensus, we left it in its place. But that year, Mom sat on the couch while the rest of us unpacked the ornaments. She never got up or approached the tree until it was finished. Then she stood with Dad for a couple of minutes, but he mostly held her up. That year Grandmother and Grandfather spent over a week with us. Together they cleaned the house from top to bottom. It was a heavy cleaning, like spring cleaning is supposed to be. They did a lot of shopping and I'm sure most of our presents were picked out by them even though the tags said they were from Mom and Dad. Grandmother made chocolate fudge and my favorite, peanut butter fudge, with Mom "supervising" from the kitchen table. By the end of January, Mom was so weak and in such pain she mostly stayed in the bedroom. And Dad began staying in there with her most of the time. We were only allowed in to see her once a day and one at a time. We got about five minutes and then Dad would throw us out. Sometimes we waited an hour or more to go in. By mid-summer, only one of us got to go in each day. She was so frail by then, we all hated to see her, but we needed to see her, too. Unbelievably, she lived almost a year after she got that sick. During that time, I felt as bad for the twins as I did for Mom and Dad. They were so upset, Dwight almost failed fourth grade because he couldn't pay attention in class or study. If he wasn't naturally so smart, he wouldn't have made it. So, a few months ago, when the end did come, we were all relieved that she was no longer suffering. Even the twins understood that. But, still, Dad just came apart and we operated for a month or so with no parenting at all while we were all so traumatized. David and Donald were wonderful to care for us the way they did, but they had to finish the school year and had their own stuff, too. The twins and I spent a lot of time together then and I tried to be a good big brother, the best I could at 15. Darrel's arrival made a huge difference for all of us. He brought adult supervision and was a big calming influence, even though he was pretty banged up on the outside and inside, too, from the war. He's never talked about the war at all, but he's gotten better mentally as well as physically since he's been with us. I love him a lot and have found my attraction to him to be stronger than any other attraction I've had. Of course, he is so gorgeous and seeing him naked (and hard a few times) has accentuated my feelings. Seeing Dad improve has been wonderful and I think that's largely due to Darrel's presence with us. The changes I've seen in Dave and Don have been striking, too. Dave has relaxed so much since Darrel arrived. I don't know if that's because he isn't responsible for everything now or if it has something to do with the training. Maybe it's some of both. He's definitely happier now, even a little carefree sometimes. And Don. Wow! He seemed to resent Darrel from the beginning and when we figured out the training involved sex, he became furious, ranting to me about Darrel "queering" David and swearing it wasn't going to happen to him, no matter what Darrel did. He was so angry I thought he might run away from home or something. Then suddenly, his training began. Of course, I haven't been alone with him enough to have private conversations, but I think he also got relaxed by the training. If it brings that much relaxation, I'm ready! And, I'm already queer, though I haven't told anyone yet. So, I'll welcome training that makes me queerer! I thought you needed a little background to follow the story. Now, let's go on. That Sunday, the three of us stayed at the swimming hole until about noon. When we got back to the house, it seemed completely quiet, so we decided to make a big breakfast as a way of waking everyone. I began frying sausage patties while the twins set the table and poured seven glasses of juice. By the time they were putting biscuits (from the can) into the oven, we could hear some toilets flush. I started a full pot of coffee I figured they'd need. Dad came up from the basement and greeted us with a big smile and hugs all around. I fixed him a steaming mug and he started cooking up a skillet load of scrambled eggs while I finished the sausage and monitored the biscuits. Soon David and Donald came downstairs and headed sleepily for the coffee. Darrel was down a minute before we all sat down. Even though they had slept so late, Darrel and David pulled themselves and their gear together so they could begin the 10-hour drive down to Tampa. A little after 2 p.m. they pulled out of our driveway, leaving Dad in charge for the week. Don was set to begin football practice at 6:00 on Monday morning so he went to sleep in his own bed around 9:00. I was excited because I would start band practice at 3:00 on Monday afternoon. Oh, you might want to know I play a tenor saxophone, pretty well for a sophomore, too, and I really love music. Donald When I arrived at the practice field just after sun-up that first day, all the guys were groggy with sleep, but happy to be together again. Coach Randolph introduced two new assistant coaches, Coach Blaylock and Coach Kern. After a rather fundamental practice session, Coach Randolph called me into his office while most of the guys headed to the showers. "Don," he said, "you had a great practice this morning." "Uh, thanks, Coach." He eye-balled me up and down, making me a little uncomfortable. "You've gotten a lot bigger since last year," he observed. "What did you do this summer to build not only so much muscle, but more agility? You seemed to be faster and more energetic, too." "I, uh, worked out a lot." "Did you join a gym, or what?" "We have a good workout room at home, Coach." "You accomplished all that just by lifting some weights?" "Uhm, no, I guess not. I ran a lot, too, up to about five miles a day, I guess. My uncle put us through stuff he learned in basic training." Coach looked me over, enough so that I felt some blood pouring into my dick with this physical attention. Realizing I was getting an erection just because Coach was looking at me really pissed me off. I guess Darrel did manage to queer me after all. Fuck. "Do you think I could talk to your uncle about what he did? It might be something to put some of the other guys on, too." What he did? If I told you, they'd go to jail, I thought. Focus, I told myself. "I'm sure he'd talk to you, Coach, but he's in Florida all this week." "Is your father here?" "Yes, sir." Coach scribbled for a moment on a small pad, tore off the top page, and handed it across the desk to me. "These are my numbers, here at the school and at home. Please ask your father to call me at his earliest convenience. Okay?" I took the note. "Sure, Coach." "Thanks. Now, hit the showers. You're smelling up my office." He grinned as I stood and left. In the shower I was alone and I took my time soaping up my body, touching myself all over, all the places where a bunch of horny strangers had mauled me half the night. I felt cheap. I was depressed. I felt bad. I felt like a sinner. I wondered what Mom would think if she knew. I was so ashamed. I was also hard as a rock. Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck! I'd gone completely perverse in just a few weeks. Damn! Uncle Darrel was an evil monster. And I loved him. And my own Dad, who I adored, was just as bad. How could he? God, washing my cock felt so good. Dammit! I pulled my hands away and worked on my back. Maybe my dick would settle. After all, your back is not an erogenous zone. I scrubbed away. My cock throbbed. What am I going to do? I ranted internally. Ignore it, I thought. Eventually your fuckin' cock will get limp again. I rubbed soapy palms on my ass cheeks. Oh, now that felt good! Was I starting to pant? In spite of my resolve to grow up to be a good, decent man, Darrel and Dad had turned me just as queer as Dave. Hell, at the party I got fucked by what seemed like an endless line of men I've never met. Yes, I was put in a sling and my wrists were tied to the chains, but, let's be honest, I wasn't forced; I wasn't raped. No, I participated willingly. Hell, I would have begged if I needed to. How could something so wrong feel so good? Shit, I make straight A's; I ought to be able to figure this out. I was washing my ass. I moaned and closed my eyes. I'm not going to waste time thinking about sin and evil, I thought as my finger slipped inside. Just to clean the inside of my sphincter, I reasoned with myself. Did it really take a hundred pushes to clean it? Oh, fuck, it feels so wonderful. Nothing I'd ever experienced came close to the feeling of a masculine guy repeatedly pounding his thick, long, hard prong into me. Raking my prostate. I pushed deep and felt that jolt of electrical sexuality. "Oh!" I cried out. I slipped my finger almost out and then pushed it fast and hard as deep as it would go. "Oh!" Electricity raced through my gonads. I was panting, for sure. My finger was pistoning into my innards. It was a poor substitute for Charlie's or Tony's or Curt's or Clint's (monster) cock, but it still kept me going strong. Oh, Geez, I can't stop. Without thinking or planning, I took hold of my dripping cock with my other hand. About three solid strokes sent me to my knees on the hard tile floor as my gonads exploded and I blasted the shower room wall with a very impressive load. I must have yelled rather loudly because, as I was drying off, Coach stuck his head around the partition and looked at me. "Everything okay?" he asked with the hint of a smirk on his face. I'm pretty sure I blushed. "Yes, sir." "Okay," he grinned. "See you this afternoon." When I got home, I gave the note to Dad, who called Coach Randolph immediately. They had a rather long conversation and Dad said he had an appointment with the coach on Tuesday before the afternoon practice session. Denton I had thought I could avoid being one of the writers of this book, but now I can't avoid it any longer as I am the only Cooper who was present for this part of the story. So, bear with me. My appointment with Coach Randolph was for 2:00 that Tuesday afternoon. I'd met him on several occasions before, but this special requested meeting was a first for us. From what Don had told me, I knew the coach was curious about the physical training Darrel had put the boys through this summer. I appeared at the coach's office a couple of minutes early and found him sitting at his desk studying a roster of his 1969 team members. I rapped lightly at the door frame and he looked up, smiling as he stood. He was a ruggedly handsome man about seven or eight years my junior and an inch or so taller than me. He had a typical coach's body, I guess, being well-muscled as though he could do anything athletic in nature. He wore his medium brown hair in a burr and had dark blue eyes that fixed on you when he looked at you. I couldn't decide if his eyes were looking for my weakness or appreciating my masculinity. But I did feel my cock starting to plump up a bit under his scrutiny. Go figure! "Mr. Cooper," he said, "thanks for coming in to see me." "Of course, Coach. It's always a pleasure to come down to the school, as long as none of my boys are in trouble." We both laughed. "No trouble at all," he said. "On the contrary, I actually wanted to talk with you about the big changes I see in Donald since last year." He gestured at a chair. "He's matured a lot recently." I sat down where he had indicated. "Yes, he has." Coach Randolph sat behind his desk and his expression became serious. "I am so sorry about your great loss, Mr. Cooper." I felt the constriction in my throat and the threat of tears in my eyes. To give myself a moment before speaking, I nodded and looked at my knees. "Uh, thank you, Coach." "A terrible thing." He shook his head and I felt the pain more. My eyes watered and I blinked back the tears. "I knew last year that your family was in a difficult situation. Your boys have held up very well, sir!" I nodded but knew I could not speak. "I only know David and Donald, but I know you have other kids who are younger." "Yes," I managed to say. "Daniel is, uh, 15 and my twins are about to turn 12." "Raising those boys is a huge task," he said. Where is he going with this? I wondered. "Actually, my brother has come to live with us to help us go forward without, uh, my wife." I had to stop as a couple of tears rolled down my cheek. "I'm sorry to cause you any pain, Mr. Cooper." He glanced away in embarrassment for a moment. Looking back, he said, "Um, the reason I wanted to talk with you was to ask if you would mind sharing with me what you have done to cause such a transformation in Donald." "Well, Coach," I was getting myself together a bit, "my brother just got out of the Marines. He has set up a training course for all my boys. It's some things he learned in his own military training and some things we learned as boys from our father. The boys are running several miles most every day and also have used their free time this summer to work out with weights, do sit-ups and such quite a bit. I guess it's paid off already." "In my ten years as a coach, I've never seen a boy change so much in such a short time, Mr. Cooper. But it isn't just physical strength that seems different about Donald. He seems a lot more mature, like he's three or four years older than he was in the spring." "I'm very proud of all my sons, Coach. Don has come a long way, thanks in part to my brother's training. As a family, we've all faced some harsh reality and we've struggled to come to grips with it, to pull together and help one another. I think Don's perspective on life has probably become a lot more adult because of that." "No doubt," Coach nodded. "I've noticed that Donald seems to recognize authority and accept direction more readily now, too." I thought we'd probably done a pretty good job of teaching him to accept authority by restraining him. Without thinking, I smiled. "You're smiling," he said. "Oh, yes," I said. "He submits to authority without rebelling like he used to do." Coach chuckled. "That's a blunt assessment, Mr. Cooper. But, in just a couple of practice sessions, I've seen that exact change myself. Actually, he's become a wonderful team player and a great guy to coach. With his new size, strength, and speed, I think Donald will be a key player this year." "I'm glad to hear that, Coach. He loves football." Coach leaned a little closer and lowered his voice a bit. "What I don't know is if he can exercise authority if it's given to him. Do you think he has the confidence to be a leader?" I thought about that. "Our summer training has focused on teaching him to submit willingly to those with authority over him." I needed to be careful to answer the coach's curiosity without divulging the sexual aspects of the training. "We're just getting ready to begin training him to direct the behavior of others, so I can't really answer that yet. In a couple of weeks, I think we may both begin to see a man of strong character emerge from him, but I cannot guarantee that." "I understand, Mr. Cooper. Let me just say, if Donald can develop that type of leadership quickly, he'll be a natural leader on the team." "I'll discuss it with my brother and see if we can accomplish that, Coach." He smiled and then became serious again. "Would it be okay for me to ask how Donald's training was planned?" Careful, I told myself. "Um, Darrel, that's my brother, has become a sort of full-time, live-in personal trainer with each of the boys. He pushes each one to work out hard and build weights and reps regularly. He's set high expectations and encouraged them to make that extra effort to achieve as much as possible. And, of course, with five boys working together, they've developed a competitive spirit and also help each other, too." "Makes perfect sense," he nodded and scratched his chin. "But there must be more, Mr. Cooper. What puzzles me is how a somewhat rebellious junior has become a model athlete, following directions with seriousness and without questioning authority. I understand how the physical change happened, but it's this new attitude and more mature thinking that I'm curious about. How did you accomplish that?" Shit! How do I answer this? I was silent as I tried to come up with a safe answer. "I'm not trying to pry, Mr. Cooper." He stood from his desk chair and walked around the end of his desk to sit beside me. Lightly grasping my forearm, he leaned toward me until our shoulders collided. "The change in Donald is golden, sir. If you have a key to transforming impertinent, rebellious teenagers into mature young men in a couple of months, I'd really like to apply your methods to a lot of other players." I was very uncomfortable. "Uh, Coach," I whispered, "there are ways to teach a boy to submit to authority that, uh ..." My mind groped for words. "That couldn't be openly discussed." His grip tightened on my arm. "Because they might be ... illegal?" he whispered. I nodded. "Perhaps." "I see," he said. My face felt very red. I didn't know the coach well enough to know how he would react. We sat that way for a very long and uncomfortable minute. Finally, he turned his mouth almost into my ear. When he spoke, it was quite soft and the warm air of his breath tickled my ear. It was erotic, damn it, and my cock stiffened. "Mr. Cooper," he whispered, "I don't think we should continue this conversation on school property, but I definitely want to continue it." Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at him. What was he thinking? He released my arm. I swiveled in my chair until I was facing him. He smiled a kind, friendly smile. My blood pressure dropped a bit when I saw that smile. He didn't look like he was about to call the cops. "Might I drop by this evening to meet your brother and talk in more depth about the training?" "Uh, Coach, I don't really think you should know the details." "I understand, Mr. Cooper. Believe me, I'm not interested in getting you in trouble for this training. I can see that Donald has not been harmed, but I need to see how we might apply all or part of your techniques to other boys who need to take directions with a better attitude. Would tonight at, oh, 7:30 be okay?" "I'm sorry, Coach, but my brother is in Florida this week." "Damn!" Coach Randolph said. "Okay. I'd forgotten. Donald told me that yesterday. I guess we'll have to wait until next week. When will he be back?" "Late Sunday evening." "Monday then?" "Make it Tuesday. Come for dinner right after your afternoon session ends." "Thank you. I'll be there. I think it might be good if Donald is not aware of our dinner plans in advance. Would you agree?" "I think that's wise." I had a lot to think over as I drove home that afternoon. Dwight With David at Cavanaugh's Ranch all day, Donald going to football practice early in the morning and late in the afternoon, and Daniel at band practice much of the afternoon, Dwayne and I suddenly found that we had far greater access to Dad and Uncle Darrel than we had for most of the summer. One day, Darrel pointed out that a lot of the walls in the house were needing repainting. Dad thought it might be good if we took on the project of repainting most of the interior of the house before school started. So, we began making lots of trips to the paint store for supplies and color samples. The next day we started with our bedroom which thrilled Dwayne and me. Dwayne and I picked a medium blue that had just a hint of gray in it. On the first morning, Don and Dan helped move the furniture away from the walls while we cleaned out our closet. Then Don laid down to rest after his morning football practice while Darrel and Dad showed us how to tape off the woodwork and electrical outlets and begin carefully putting paint on the wall. Our old color was a dull yellowish-brown that might have been interesting way back in the 40's but was dated and dull by the end of the 60's. It took us two days to paint the walls, then put on a second coat, then paint the woodwork, and then put the furniture back in place. But we were thrilled with how much brighter and happier the room looked than it had before. The next two days changed Dan and Don's room from some shade of faded green into a wild-looking place with solid red background and some filmy orange they splooshed on with a sponge. At first, I wanted to puke when I saw the orange going over the red, but when it was all done and dry it was surprisingly nice. It made the room seem like a party ought to be happening all the time, but the guys liked it, especially Dan, who called it "far out" like a hippie! Even though David was working at the Cavansugh's so couldn't help us, we didn't neglect his room. His favorite color is green, so he picked a good strong green for the base and wanted it splooshed over with a light green. I thought it was really calm and peaceful and Dave had a big smile when he saw it. That made all our work worth it! In Darrel's room, we painted over the light beige that looked like a dirty white with a color that the paint can said was "caramel sundae" but looked like half-way between beige and brown to me. I thought it was a bit dull, but then Darrel nailed strips of wood all the way around the wall about three feet from the floor. Under that we put on a dark brown almost the color of a Hershey's Bar. The wood strip he called molding and it was painted a very bright white enamel. When the furniture was in place the room looked really good. The upper hall was painted in Darrel's caramel color, which looked awesome when all the doors and woodwork had been painted that same bright enamel as the molding in Darrel's room. We spent almost three weeks working half-days on our painting project. What a transformation our efforts brought to the house. I swear each of us boys felt the world had become a little brighter and more carefree as the rooms became more colorful and fresh. Dwayne and I especially enjoyed working with Dad and Uncle Darrel, as well as Donald and Daniel, to get all this done. Except for a few quiet moments when we began working in the bedroom Dad had shared with Mom, he was happy and relaxed through the whole project. By the time we had completed the second floor, summer was almost over and Dad suggested we wait until Christmas break to begin working downstairs.