Date: Tue, 30 Nov 2021 00:45:44 +0000 (UTC)
From: ropingtop@aol.com
Subject: Captured Coach - installment 1 (authoritarian)

Dear Readers:  I hope you enjoy this first installment and can wait
patiently for the next one.  I'll be back to it soon, just not right
away.  And now, enjoy the story.

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I was horny.  No, I was REALLY REALLY horny.  I had been screwing a mid
level gymnast - a senior who's specialties were floor exercise (GREAT
splits), and rings (bulging biceps and traps!).  He hadn't been too into
it when I fucked him the first time, but with proper training and
repetition, he at least accepted his role.  (Being able to live rent
free, when he wasn't on scholarship helped too).
Then... damn stud GRADUATED!!!!  That happens I guess, but... DAMN.
"I'll miss you Sir," he said, the day I drove him to the airport to go
back home.
"Yeah, whatever, " I said.  "Don't forget to write."
He did.  Until his wedding bans were posted.  He remembered to send me
those.  At least he included a "sweet" note:  "DUDE.  Sex with Mindy is
great, but not as excellent as with you.  Make another boy happy.
 Alex."
I intended to.  I just needed to recover.  I thought he was "the one."
perfect sub material, definitely on his way to accepting his role as my
slave, just not... I guess he was holding out.  And I should have
realized:  you fall in lust with a senior, you're gonna have to accept:
it's probably not forever.

Damn, I ran ahead of myself.  I'm Dan.  Dan Prosser.  I used to work at
the university, but now, I have a job at a small company in the
surrounding town.  It's dependent on business from the university: we
don't get involved in food, but we're the "go to" company for all the
stuff around food:  remember those red plastic cups you drank out of at
too many frat parties?  Yeah, that's us.  Always an emergency, always a
rush, but we did it.  Cups, disposable plates, glass ware, the whole nine
yards.  Nothing fancy, but always reasonable.
I said "always an emergency," right?  Well, that's what led me down the
path you're gonna read about.

Boss walked into my office.  "Dan, I know this isn't your thing, but...
"  I looked up.  There was always a but.  And it was always - ALWAYS - an
emergency delivery for some part of the university that had forgotten to
order something.
It was the damn red cups.  A set of 500 of them.  "So you'll need to take
your car.  Real sorry Dan."  I groaned, but then I grinned.  I looked at
my watch.  3pm.
"If I take care of this, can I go straight home instead of coming back?"
Carlton looked at me:  he was a good boss, but sometimes he had to
pretend to be a hard ass .  He knew about my "proclivities" as he called
them (I suspected he shared them, but he never showed his hand).
"If you promise not to drag some tied up boy into your backseat and bring
him home, I'm fine with that."  We both had a laugh about that.  It had
never happened:  I just mused once that doing that to one of the
wrestlers would have been really, REALLY hot.  I still smiled when I
thought about Max.  GOD.  A heavyweight, but SO FUCKING WELL
PROPORTIONED.  Friendly kid too.  Kid?  I laughed.  He had to be 30 now.
Still, there were a lot of good looking 30 somethings out there.  I just
preferred...
I'm getting ahead of myself.  So, ok, I loaded up the cups, took the
address from my boss, and headed out.
"427 Sycamore Arena."  HEY!  That was the aquatic hall!  I remembered
that place.  I could get out of work early and maybe catch a look at
swimming practice.  Speedos.  My favorite word.  Next to "Sir."
I didn't run any lights, but I have to be honest:  the thought of seeing
some of that young flesh, especially in my horniated (I made up that
word, but it's apt) state DID distract me.  When I got to the Arena, and
called up to Mr. Whitmore, the administrator, I figured that maybe the
box of cups would hide my "excitement" if I put it in front of me.
"HEY.  NO NEED FOR THAT DUDE.  You saved us!"
You know those movies where the damsel in distress gets rescued by the
handsome hero?  Well, I sorta felt that way as two HUGE blonds (one with
green eyes, one with blue), came running out of the building to get the
box.
"Guys, it weighs nothing.  You coulda sent a mascot."  The green eyed one
started laughing.
"Jasper?  NAH, he couldn't handle this.  But let us take it. Please. "
Yeah, I'd let him take it, but not a box.
"Hey,"  I lied.  "I was mascot for the team about 15 years ago.  Any
chance I could come in and take a look around? "  Mr. Blue eyes smiled.
"Well, sure, but there's nothing to see.  Custodian's are mopping up, but
practice ended at two.  No racing, no nothing going on here.  Guys are
just heading home to nap.
"But you guys?"
"Work study dude.  Two more hours and we're out of here."
"I see.  Too bad.  I used to love watching practice."
"Well..."  Mr. blue eyes, who introduced himself as Todd (why are
swimmers ALWAYS named Todd ?  Or Shane.  Yeah, that was Mr. green eyes
name).  "Maybe you'd like to come to the meet tomorrow night."
"Oh, there's a competition."
"Oh yeah.  Big one.  We'll both be swimming.  So will the rest of the
team.  And State is the competition. Big rivalry. We won the first meet,
they won the second.  This is the last one of the season for the two of
us.  Dude, if you like swimming, you GOTTA come."
"Oh, I HAD to 'cum' alright, but not for the meet.  Still, the thought of
seeing Todd and Shane wearing less than what they were wearing now, and
who knows how many others?  Yeah, I'd take them up on the invitation.
Who knows?  Maybe I'd find a substitute for Alex.
I did.  That's coming.

I drove up to the university the night of the meet, and was fortunate to
find a convenient parking spot.  I was there about an hour early, so that
I could see some of the warm up.  That wasn't by accident:  you know that
when serious competition starts, all the swimmers put on those caps that
hide what is frequently some gorgeous hair.  During warm up though,
they'd usually keep them off:  they made them sweat too much.
I was doing my fair share of sweating while I watched.  I saw Shane
warming up, didn't see Todd.  I mused that he was backstage, getting a
"protein jolt" if you know what I mean, from some other team member.
Things got quiet as the warm up ended, and the teams left. There was
always a ceremony before the meet began:  teams marching out  doing a
circle around the pool, palm slapping, yadda yadda.  Me sitting there
saying to myself  "I'll take that one, and that one, and that one...."
Yeah, there was much to delight the impulse buyer.
Then...  the best one of all.  He wasn't swimming.  He wasn't wearing a
cap either.  Short shorts:  nearly a speedo, but not.  Tight standard gym
blue polo shirt.  Blond hair that shone the way a bottle blond wants his
or her hair to look.
"Isn't he short to be a swimmer?"  I turned to the guy sitting next to
me.
"Oh, you must be new.  He's the assistant coach.  Coach Turner.  Rich
Turner.  You're right:  but he didn't swim.  He was a diver."
DAMN was he fine.  I couldn't see his musculature under his shirt, but I
could imagine it well enough. His shirt was THAT tight.
"Fine ass too,"  I thought.  "Probably good set of cojones, if..."  I
didn't finish the thought because the meet was about to begin.  I began
to think:  how old is he?  26?  28?  30?  (I think in even numbers.
Comes with the job. Good thing I don't think in dozens).  "Hmmm.
Probably still pretty horny most of the time."  I leaned forward to see
if he wore a wedding ring.  I didn't see one.
Yeah, I had some interest in Coach Turner.  I didn't realize HOW much
until there was a mid meet break, and I didn't know what the score was,
who won.. I didn't even notice Shane and Todd over at the side, talking
and laughing.  My eyes had been glued on Coach Turner - specifically
Coach Turner's ass - the whole meet.
Well, my last three boys had been 21, 20 and 20. You COULD call me a
cradle robber,  but like I said: there's a lot of good looking 30 year
old men (and at least one good looking 35 year old because, as I found
out, that was how old Coach Turner was.  I learned that when I read the
program at the next meet.  I didn't miss one the rest of the season.  And
I began thinking... Coach Turner was gonna be my next.
I knew that making my move after the final meet of the season, would not
be a good idea:  everyone would be ready for the end of the season party,
or whatever was planned.  And with the plan I had in mind, getting Turner
before the end of the season was key.   I'm sneaky enough so that I had
observed the team after meets.  They'd get ready, leave together, and
then, Turner would high five or shake hands, or embrace, or something,
each one of them before he went off by himself.
Next to last meet.  OH YEAH.   He had put on a bright red windbreaker - a
little skinny one - over his usual polo shirt and shorts.  I knew where
the street he walked made a turn, and I also knew there wasn't a street
light.  The gods WANTED this to happen.  I knew it.  And it did.  I was
about four inches taller than Turner, and strong enough to get the cloth
under his nose and hold it firmly.  Good respiration means you take in
more than others, and he took in more.  He was out faster than I
thought.  And he slept.  In fact, he SNORED, in the backseat until I got
him to my place.  The basement.  Where I kept my toys.

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He was out for a while.  I began to get nervous.  No reaction when I took
off the windbreaker, none when I tied his wrists behind him, none when I
tied his ankles to the back of the chair.
"HEY.  COACH TURNER.. WAKE UP."  I gently smacked his cheeks.  He began
to stir.  He must have needed to scratch his nose or something because he
tried to move his hand, and when he couldn't, he twisted his head back.
That's when he realized that he was tied up. First he pulled at the ropes
firmly, but not crazily.  Then he did it again.  Then he went beserk,
pulling so hard I thought he'd fall over, and screaming "WHAT THE FUCK!
WHAT THE... LET ME GO . NOW."  It was then that he saw me.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?   DID YOU DO THIS?  YOU'RE IN REAL TROUBLE."
"Relax Coach Turner.  May I call you Rich?"
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?  "  He pulled some more.  He seemed to be
realizing that he wasn't getting loose without help, because his
struggling waned.
"For now, you can call me Dan. That may change, Rich.  What won't change
is you being tied up. Pull at the ropes all you want.  I know what I'm
doing."
And I do.  I had tied up my share of men.  He fought.   And when he
couldn't get loose, he began to scream.  Now, no one was gonna hear him
in my basement, but he didn't need to know that.
"I wonder what type of gag would most suit a swimming coach. Hmmmm.  " I
smiled as I picked up a ball gag.
"This one matches your shirt (it was blue), but that won't matter in a
while."
"WHAT THE.  WHAT ARE YOU..."  I tried to put the gag in and he clamped
his mouth shut.  Normally, I would have just slammed his balls and shoved
it in when he screamed in pain, but I had another scenario in mind for
his balls.  I knew it would take a little longer, but I did a classic
nose pinch.  Again, he squirmed.  He squirmed big time, until he realized
I wasn't letting go.  He needed to breath and it went in. "
"u ffffffck"  came out of his mouth as I stood back and looked at my
handiwork.
"Now don't  you look good like that Rick.  So helpless.  Bound so
tight."  I stepped behind him and put my hands on his shoulders as I
whispered.
"Any idea what's gonna happen to you, handsome?"
The "handsome" set him off. He had an idea.  He began to squirm again.
"Relax, Rick, relax.  I'm not going to do anything to you that you don't
want.  Well, maybe a few things, but not many."  I saw anger flash in his
eyes, as he pulled at the ropes one more time.  He was finally realizing
he wasn't going anywhere.  I could see tension relax in his arms, and
they dropped further behind him.  The angry look turned to one that was
almost questioning.
"Coach Rick, I have gone to just about EVERY meet this season, and I have
seen EVERY one of your athletes stripped down to as little as possible.
But I've never seen what YOUR body is like."  I ran my hand over his
torso, and he began to squirm again.  Sounds that I could only describe
as a lamb bleating came out of his gag.
"How come we've never seen you without your shirt Rick?  I can't believe
that a former diver, who has the sexiest legs I've ever seen, doesn't
have a great chest.  Can I see it?"  The anger was back in his eyes as he
shook his head "NO."  I just laughed.
"Well, you really don't have a choice, stud.   See, I bet you're
thinking, 'he's got to untie me to get the shirt off and then I can fight
him off and get away."
He looked at me like I had just caught him in a cookie jar.  In fact, if
anyone was going into a cookie jar, it was me.
"Well, nope.  That's not the only way to get a man's shirt off Rick."  He
began to struggle more, and louder, when I came back with a large pair of
scissors.  I pulled up the edge of his shirt that just touched his
pubes.
"Now, this shirt, Rick, it's so tight that if I slip... I could hurt you
so... I'd suggest you be still.
"Plzzzzzzzz.  no"  squirted out of his mouth as I began making a vertical
cut in the shirt, from his belly (if you could call it that:  he was as
lean as can be), to the placket at the top of the shirt.
"Relax.  You've got plenty more of those. The University can be generous
to its coaches.  And you've got that windbreaker.  You might be a little
uncomfortable when - excuse me - IF I send you home, but for now... " I
continued to cut away at the shirt, until there was very little left, and
then none.
"OH MY COACH!  Now I know why you don't take off your shirt.  You don't
wanna embarrass your jocks.  " I ran my hand over his washboard stomach,
and he flinched.
"You work out along side of them?"  He didn't answer.  That's when I
groped his junk.
"Not answering is NOT acceptable Rick.  Do you work out with your
swimmers?"  Resignedly, he shook his head yes.
"Ah.  I bet more than one has had a crush on you, huh?"
"mmmmmmph."  He didn't want to answer that question, for sure. A solid
grope got a "yes" with a shaken head.
"Know what I like Rick?  You may work out with them, but you don't shave
like they do."  I smiled. That may be MY job."
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH"  his head shaking "NO" violently, while I laugh.
"If I took out a razor and got to work right now, what could you do?
Hmmmm???? What could you do?"
"Plzzzzzzzzzzz.  No.."
"You know, Rick, I think you realize that I'm not going to be shy about
gagging you again if I need to, so I'm gonna take this out, if you keep
your volume down.  Curse me out all you want.  Just no yelling, OK?"  It
was reluctant, but he shook his head yes.
"THERE we go!"  I took out the gag.  He spat, and then raised his voice.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING. THIS IS KIDNAPPING"
"Oh well," I shook my head. "Let me put it to you this way Coach.  Would
you rather it were you, or one of your jocks?"
He sighed like air had gone out of a balloon.  "Please let me go.  No one
has to know this happened."
"Oh, I'd like them to know it happened because you know what..." I
pointed to his junk.  "The downside of wearing tight shorts is that...
everyone knows when you're excited."  There was a distinct bulge in his
shorts and since they were white, I could see a small stain.
"Now, what did I do that you enjoyed?"
"NOTHING!"  he yelled.
"Well, let's see if I can find something."  I ran my hand up his torso
again and I began circling his nipple.
"PLEASE!  " He gasped.  PLEASE.  DON'T DO THAT. PLEASE..."
"Ok.  How about... this."  I formed a pincer with my fingers and squeezed
that nipple and he moaned.  He may have even said  "OH YEAH," but I
wasn't sure.  I DO know that he closed his eyes and pushed back his
head.
"Soooo, Rick.  If I shaved you tonight..."
"Please don't.  Anything but that.  Please."
"Anything? Ho ho.  Be careful Rick because... you know what I did to the
last five guys I had in that chair..."  I leaned into his ear.  "I FUCKED
them."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.  Alright.  SHAVE ME.  SHAVE ME.  Just don't
fuck me."
I laughed even harder.
"Now, Rick, what if I wanted to do both?  What could you do?  "
He snorted.  "You're never gonna get away with this, you know?"
"Get away with WHAT, Rick? You just told me I could shave you. "  He
pushed against the ropes again.
"You FORCED me to say it.  "
"Oh, I don't think so . Look at that spot on your shorts."  He looked
down and when he did, I took both nipples in my hand.
"Rick, we are going to have SO MUCH FUN.  But don't worry.  I'm not going
to shave you OR fuck you."  He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Don't I get a thank you?"
"Thank you" he muttered.
"Thank you SIR" would be better." I squeezed his nipples to reinforce my
point.
"Thank you SIR"  came out of him.  Then he asked, half curious, half
scared.  "What ARE you going to do to me?"
"Well, let's see.   I could... oh, I don't know.  I COULD shove my cock
in your mouth but you'd probably bite."  He seemed to laugh at that.  "OR
I could shave that beautiful hair off the top of your head.   OR..... I
think what I AM gonna do... is give you the best hand job  you have ever
had in your life.
"FUCK NO. "  he snorted, and pulled at the ropes again.
"Oh, I think so Coach.  I think so.    But not on the chair.  I think...
we're gonna get more comfy."
"WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?"
"It means you're gonna go to sleep again, but just for a little while.
And no chloroform this time.  This time, just a little guillotine choke
hold."
"FUCK NO..."  He struggled and he fought as I tightened it.  Someone once
referred to the way victims react to it as the way chickens do when you
strangle them.  I didn't strangle Coach Rick, but I put him to sleep just
long enough to move him out of the chair, and onto my bed.  I restrained
him at the four angles, but first... I got his shorts and his jock off.
I almost fainted.  Was that a full 9.5 in front of me, hard and red?  He
was still asleep so I took a tape measure.  9.3.
He was the biggest guy I had ever dominated.
When he woke up, and fought against the restraints, I showed him the
gag.
"I can use this again, if you misbehave."
"I... I won't misbehave.  I promise.  Please.  Don't hurt me. "
"Not gonna hurt you at all.  As long as you comply.  We understand each
other?"
I was very pleased by the "yes sir" that answered me.
"Ricky... can I call you Ricky?"
"You're gonna call me anything you want, but I HATE being called Ricky. "
"Ok, ok.  Fair enough.  I'll only use it when I'm angry at you and you
need to be punished."
"What the fuck?  What do you mean?"
"Rick, this is NOT a one time thing, no no no.  If you knew what I had
planned for you, you'd understand that, but first.... My my my.  This is
quite a tool."  I ran my finger along the back of his hard cock.  He
grunted.
"I've never had a complaint."
"Oh, I'm sure you haven't. But what I wanna know is:  has it been men or
women who didn't complain?"
"NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. OOOOOOOOOOOOF"  When he gave me that answer, I
squeezed his balls , hard.  And I wasn't letting go.
"Let's just say it is now. "
"Women. OK. Lots and lots of women."
"Well, that's a disappointment but... you can think of them when I get to
work." (Later I found out what I suspected was true:  he was lying).  My
finger started running up and down his cock.
"HEY . WHAT ARE YOU.... OOOOOOOOOH"  I began a steady motion:  up and
down his cock and then reaching under his balls.  Finding his "taint" and
teasing it.
"FUCK.  FUCK.  STOP THAT."
"Why Rick? You seem to be enjoying it."
"NOT AS MUCH AS YOU.. OH SHIT.." I had just moved my hand to his cock
head and ran it across his glans.  Pre-cum squirted it out.
"I AM enjoying it Rick.  How about we add a layer of fun?"  I grabbed a
nipple with one hand and began stroking him with the other.   He
struggled for a minute, but then... I guess it's a stroke that swimmers
use? There was enough slack in his restraints to do something not unlike
a back stroke, only from the wrong position.    He moaned, he cursed, but
the most frequent words out of his mouth were "oh yeah" and "OH FUCK" .
I saw the pre-cum volume growing, and his thrusts become more and more
violent.
"OH SHIT I'M THERE.  I'M THERE...."  and then I let go.
"HEY.  WHAT THE... Why'd you let go?"
"Cause I'm not ready to let you cum, Rick"
"FUCK.  That's not fair.  "
"I didn't say it was fair. It's just the way it is."
"FUCK.  Finish me.  COME ON Finish me."  I didn't move my hand, and he
pleaded
"PLEASE SIR..."
I smiled and went back to stroking him.  I had NO intention of bringing
him off.  Not for a while anyway.  And I kept on bringing him to the
edge.  Each time, I made him beg.  He had to beg "Sir Dan,"  he had to
tell me the name of his favorite swimmer (it was Shane.  I wasn't
surprised).  He had to tell me the name of his last girlfriend. (He
couldn't remember.  I see....).  Then, finally, after half hour, I said
"Ok Rick. One more thing.  I'm gonna let you cum, but then... I'm either
gonna keep you here overnight, or you're gonna show up the next time I
want some fun.  What's it gonna be?"
I could see his mind scheming, but I knew I was a better chess player.
"I'll come back Sir. I promise. "
"Ok.  Then I'll tell you what. No one pleasures himself as well as he
does it himself. You left handed or right handed?"
"Right handed Sir."
I opened the restraint on his right wrist and let him go at it, while I
went at his nipples.  I saw him licking his lips. I looked at that
beautiful chest hair and wondered:  how much fun would I have trimming
it?  What about his ears.  Is he ticklish?   All areas to be explored
when. ..."
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK"  That 9.3 inch cock exploded.  He was
covered, I mean COVERED with his own jizz.  When he stopped pulsing, he
didn't resist when I tied his arm back to the corner of the bed.
"HEY.  You said...."
"I did.  But we gotta do something first, Rick.  It's not that I don't
trust you but... I don't trust you."
"Whaddya mean?"  He asked.   I pulled out a wet cloth, and I sponged him
down. When I was done, I pulled out a cage.
"Know what this is?"
"No.  Never saw one in my life."
I smiled as I stroked what belly he had.  "This is a chastity cage.  Once
I lock it.  The next time you cum, will be when I unlock it. "
"WHAT? SHIT.  NO.  I told you I'd...  OWwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" I squeezed
Rick's balls again.
"Yeah, yeah, you probably told a lot of people a lot of shit."  I showed
him the key.
"If you behave, I'll drive you back to the gym without putting you out.
If you give me shit... Oh yeah, I forgot."  I put a cock ring on the base
of his cock.
"What the fuck is that for?"
"So you behave."  I showed him my control box, hit a button and ..
"OH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. YOU GODDAMN BASTARD."
"Deal with it, stud.  If I'm not there, I can't do it.  Of course, you
won't be able to cum until I unlock it so... you better hope I show up
soon."
"PLEASE.  DON'T DO THIS."
"Would you bring three of your swimmers to me in exchange."  He paused.
"No.  I won't .  "
"GOOD.  Cause I don't WANT them. You're who I want, and you're who I'm
gonna get.  So.... you gonna behave on a ride back to the gym?"
I thought I saw him shed a tear.
"Yes sir.  I will.  I promise.  Can you..."
"Can I take the ring off? I CAN, but I won't."  I saw him tighten his
lips.
"Ok Sir.   When should I expect you."
"Ha ha.  You'll know.  It's easy to get into practice.  Shane and Todd
are my new BFFs."
He looked at me.  "Stay away from them."
"That's up to you." I pressed the button and sent a shock to his cock.
"Understand?"
"Yes sir."
Rick wasn't too communicative on the way back to the gym, unless he
moaned when I "inadvertently" pressed the charge button.