Star Player, The

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By Berserker

“That’s the fourth game this season we’ve lost, you bastards!” Coach Mace shouted at the Riverside team. They hung their heads in shame. Yes, this year had been a bad year, and the team’s ranking on the ranking was down. Way down.

“If you guys don’t shape up, we’re going to be the worst team in the league!” The guys in the team tried to shrink away from the huge bear of a man who shouted so loud the windows rattled.

If anything, they were a little on the small side to be playing football, a game where size and power were everything. Most of the other teams had one or two giants who managed to smash through any defences they could put up. The biggest guy on the Riverside team was Tristan, who at 220 pounds at 6’4”, was fairly tall, but not enormous. Coach Mace had put high hopes in Tristan, who when he first joined the team looked as if he could turn things around.

“Tristan!” The blond 19-year old looked up sorrowfully.

“I’m sorry Coach, I should have done better—“

“Better?! Dammit, you were a washout! A complete washout, ya know that??” bawled the Coach. Tristan looked down, afraid to meet the Coach’s eye.

“You will come and see me in the office right after this!” growled Coach Mace. “As for the rest of you, that’s ten rounds round the field! Get your asses there NOW!!!”

The team sighed, and scrambled to get to the field. When Coach Mace said “hurry,” he meant it.

+++

Tristan knocked on the Coach’s door.

“Come in.” He opened the door gingerly and slunk in. Tristan had a well put-together body, big in all the right places, and well-proportioned. He had a football player’s large thighs and chest, and strong arms too. A lot of girls thought he was the cutest guy on the team. His sandy blond hair was tousled, and his boyish, handsome face just drove the girls wild, and the fact that he was known to have a sweet, cheerful disposition didn’t hurt him either. His rounded, cute “bubble butt” which filled his trousers well also was yet another selling point. If you just looked at his face, you would think he was not a day over sixteen, but the rest of his body was definitely built like a man.

The Coach was waiting for him. He didn’t ask Tristan to sit, and instead just glared at him.

Tristan shifted uncomfortably. He had been hitting the weights and chowing down a lot more recently in an effort to bulk up, and had put on about 10 pounds of muscle, so his uniform was getting a little snug, especially around the arms and thighs. Coupled with the oppressive heat in the office and the Coach’s baleful glare, Tristan was very uncomfortable, and couldn’t help looking it.

“You’re a disappointment, Tristan.”

“Yessir,” he mumbled.

“I had high hopes for you,” said Coach Mace, “But evidently, I was wrong.”

“Yessir.” Tristan only wished he could just run out of the office and never come back.

The Coach leaned back in his armchair, and regarded the large boy in front of his desk. “Just like a kid,” he thought to himself. “Well, I’m going to change that.”

“Tristan, I think we all know that a desperate situation like this calls for desperate measures. Am I right?”

“Yes sir, you are, sir. Absolutely.” Tristan said. He thought to himself, “Oh no, Coach is probably gonna put us all on some shit intensive training again. The last time that happened, he couldn’t walk for days after that, everything was so sore and tired!”

The Coach reached into his drawer and took something out. It was a syringe.

“Come here, boy.” The Coach took the syringe out of its protective wrapping and tapped out the air bubbles. It was filled with a clear yellow liquid.

“Coach, what’s that?!” Tristan was alarmed. Was the Coach going to inject that into him? What the fuck?!

“I said COME HERE!” shouted the Coach. Tristan instinctively obeyed and stepped forward. The Coach grabbed him and pulled him close. Tristan tried to struggle, but the Coach’s vice-like grip was too strong. With a swift motion, the Coach pulled down Tristan’s trousers. He was wearing his jockstrap underneath.

“Coach, what are you doing!”

“Shut the fuck up, boy. I said desperate measures, didn’t I? If you don’t keep quiet and stay still, you can kiss your football scholarship goodbye, and you can kiss your place in this college goodbye! I’ll kick your fucking ass back to whatever shithole you came from!” Coach Mace grabbed Tristan’s jockstrap and ripped it away. His dick flopped out, a beautiful six-incher with a pair of large, heavy balls, all dusted with blond hair.

“You’re a man down here, but on the field, you play like a sissy girl!” snarled the Coach. He took hold of Tristan’s balls and began playing with them. “Huh? Explain to me why? Got your brains in your balls, so you can’t think while playing? Huh?”

Tristan shut his eyes and gasped. Involuntarily, his dick began to stiffen. The Coach continued to massage his balls and his dick as he spoke. “Please, no, Coach… please stop!” He felt himself blushing furiously as the Coach worked away at his dick. He hated to admit it, but having the Coach’s large warm hands cupped around his balls felt strangely good. He had fucked loads of chicks before, but never had he done anything with a guy. Why was Coach doing this to him? And why was he enjoying it, desptie himself? It was all wrong!

“This stuff is gonna make you a real man, Tristan. You’re gonna be Riverside’s star player, you hear me? You’ll be our star player…”

What was Coach talking about? What did the drug do? Was it one of those performance-enhancing drugs? Was it---

“AARGH!” Tristan suddenly screamed as he felt a sharp pain stabbing into his balls. He looked down and saw Coach Mace stinking the syringe into his balls. “Coach!”

“You move and I’ll fucking smash your balls into a pulp!” said the Coach. “Don’t you fucking move!”

Tristan eyes watered over with tears the the Coach finished injecting one of his balls, and went on to the next. The pain was excruciating, and his balls felt swollen. Hell, they looked swollen, now twice the size they had been. Tristan tried to pull away after the Coach was done, but the Coach roughly drew him close again, and without warning suddenly bent down and took Tristan’s dick in his mouth, and began to slowly suck on it.

“Coach!” Tristan was shocked, he tried to struggle but the Coach held on tightly to him. His balls were feeling funny—they were tingling, and he felt his dick swell up some more. It felt so hard he thought it would burst., The tingling feeling spread across his groin, and up his spine—God! It felt so good. Tristan gritted his teeth and grabbed on tight to the Coach’s shoulders. No! He felt that he was going to have an orgasm anytime soon! All he could feel was the Coach’s warm wet tongue teasing his engorged dick, playing with it and sending thrills all through his body. This was not happening!

“Ahhhhh!” Tristan roared as he came. Waves of pleasure rolled over him, so intense he he’s knees went weak and he though he would black out. He felt himself bucking, shoving his dick repeatedly into the Coach’s mouth. He came like he never did before, so hard and so much that his cum spilled and dribbled out of the corners of the Coach’s mouth. It seemed as if it would never stop, and Tristan clenched his teeth in the ecstasy.

Finally it ended. Sweat was pouring down Tristan’s face, and he was shaking all over. The Coach let him go, and Tristan sank down to the floor, his trousers and his ripped jockstrap around his ankles.

“Coach…”

“You liked that, boy?” asked the Coach. He gave Tristan a crooked smile as he wiped Tristan’s cum from the sides of his mouth. He made a performance of licking it carefully off his fingers, savoring each sticky, milky drop. “How was that for training? Huh?”

Trisan leaned against the wall, panting. He didn’t know what to feel. His whole body felt numb, and as if he had been drained of everything. That was to be expected, he guessed, after cumming what must have been a world record just now.

The Coach got up and thre Tristan a towel. “Clean youself up, boy. I’m telling you, I’m looking forward to seeing the results.” He walked over to Tristan and bend down. He reached out and lightly touched the side of Tristan’s face. He voice was almost tender as he said, “Remember to get lots of rest, eat well, and do the weights. Huh, boy?”

Tristan could only nod dumbly, taken by surprise by what looked like a moment of unexpected kindness from Coach Mace. Coach Mace smiled his crooked smile again and tousled Tristan’s hair. “Lock the door as you leave,” he said, as he turned and left the office. •


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