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Subject: Coach Becomes Team's Toilet!  (m/m scat) 2/2
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Date: Mon, 12 Aug 1996 04:04:21 GMT
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NOTE: This is a story involving adult males engaging in scat-related

   activities.  It is meant to be read only by adults authorized to read
it. No use of this story other than the reading of it by adults authorized
to read it is contemplated or condoned by the author, who hereby disclaims
any and all liability for any use of this story and retains all rights to
it.  Do not read this story if underage. This is the much longer second
part of the story.

   ---------------------------------------------------------------------

   Of course, I think the tennis player's body is the most attractive of
all athletes.  I love trim guys with long legs, well-muscled with
well-developed chests and beautiful, melon-shaped asses.  I'm pretty much
an ass man.  A lot of tennis players have long dicks to go with those long
tall bodies but if I have to choose one or the other, give me an ass to
suck or fuck.  I saw some show on TV where they asked three girls whether
they preferred tennis players' or volleyball players' bodies.  They all
said volleyball.  Not me.  Give me a tennis stud any day.

   Now being the tennis coach, I get to do a lot of fun things that get me
off without the players even really knowing about it.  Let me tell you
about the players and then I'll tell you what fun I have with them and
their things.  Our best player is Bobby, who is about 6'4" with black hair
and a baby face.  I make all my players wear sheer white shorts and briefs
on the court.  Not just because it's part of the tradition of the sport. 
Mostly, I make them do it because it gives me the best view of their asses.
And when Bobby bends over to serve, you just want to stick a finger up that
hole.

   Our next regular player is Adam, who is a little shorter, about 6'2",
with light brown hair and the fullest, most succulent ass you could
imagine. When he bends over, his bubble butt looks so fucking full it's as
if he was wearing a diaper.  Our next player is Ari, about 6'1", a thin,
wiry, curly-black-haired guy from out West.  He's an arrogant fucker with
beautiful Greek features.  Bobby, Adam and Ari are our top three singles
players.  The "second three" are Ethan, Kyle and Andy.  Ethan is about
6'4", with wavy brown hair and a beautiful fleshy body.  When he bends over
in the training room in his little red lycra shorts, you're reminded why
life is worth living.  I've wanted to pop that ass since the first day I
saw it.  Kyle is about 6'3", with reddish-brown hair, slightly balding.  He
rides to practice on a motorcycle wearing jeans, sometimes leather.  He's
got that intellectual studfucker look to him; even though he's not
conventionally sexy, you still want his ass.  Andy is the shortest at
5'11", like me.  Blonde with blue eyes, he's so young and innocent looking
you'd think he was fresh off the farm.  But he knows he's hot.  I once saw
him playing pick-up basketball with another guy and jokingly say, "If you
make that shot, I'll let you suck my cock." The guy missed and then asked
Andy if he still could anyway.

   During practice, I try to maximize two things: my actual physical
contact with these studs -- I spend a lot more time practicing with the
regulars than the backups -- and the time spent scoping them, especially
their asses.  I'll come out on to the court and stand right behind them,
gripping their racquet with them, positioning their bodies properly, and
for the most part trying to feel up their asses as much as possible.  I can
stand behind one of my guys and work on his serve for about ten minutes,
with my cock pressing right up against those sheer shorts, my hands on the
side of his ass, telling him to "push off" so as to maximize the power of
the serve, and getting the fringe benefit of him pushing his ass directly
into my waiting hands.  When you spend a lot of time feeling your guys'
asses, it makes it seem more accidental or natural when your cock really
starts pushing against their holes or your finger "happens" to sneak up
into their butt cracks.  I know it's unethical but when I'm holding Adam's
or Ethan's ass mounds, holding somehow turns into kneading and a finger
that should be with all the others somehow worms its way up that crack
toward that asshole.  I also sometimes just watch them play.  I always tape
record the practices for "professional use." Little do they know I'm mostly
focussing on their bouncing buns.

   I also impose certain suspicious-sounding rules on my players.  Of
course, they keep their things in their locker room lockers, which only
they and I have the combination to.  In addition to sheer whites on the
court, they may only wear white, red, blue and black lycra shorts for
practices.  They are to keep all shorts and underwear in the lockers and I,
having told them I have a friend who operates a laundromat, take all those
dirty clothes and jocks home on Fridays and clean them for my guys over the
weekend.  Needless to say, the "cleaning" often involves more sniffing and
sucking and licking and eating than time in a washer.  I had them label all
their stuff so I can have it ready for them when they come for practice on
Monday.  I tell them to wear their underwear quite a while without changing
it on the theory that they get used to it and changes in little personal
things can get them off their rhythm.  Of course, laundry is not a chore
for me.  It means getting to put on all those sweaty jocks' undergarments,
try them on, put them on my face and sniff, try to lick out the cum stains,
the urine stains, and my favorite of all, the delicious-smelling shit
stains.  When you are doing all of their laundry, they don't notice when an
occasional pair is missing or comes back late.  If there's a pair of
underwear that I have to have -- say, a huge fresh shit stain that's going
to get me off for weeks -- I'll just keep it and buy them a new pair and
label it myself.

   I also make them refrain from pissing or shitting before they come to
practice, then make them urinate in the urinals and shit in the toilets --
six, one for each of my regulars -- before practice.  The reason is that we
want to get the waste out of their system and replenish them with water,
Powerbars, etc.: the good stuff.  Of course, I've told them that there's a
plumbing problem with the tennis building and that they should not flush
the toilets.  They know it can only be done after 6 p.m., when conveniently
enough I'm the only one around.  I think they think I'm doing them a favor
because practice is usually over by 5:30 or so.  But if they only knew.  I
have them on a good, fiber-rich diet and so their shit is for the most part
nice and firm, harder rather than softer, delicious to look at and smell
and taste.  The locker room is right next to the coach's office -- in fact
they're connected by a vent -- and I'm always deadly quiet while they're in
for their daily shit.  The sounds of those sphincters opening up and
dropping those beautiful shit logs are enough to make a shithound like me
go crazy.  Since they all have to shit at the same time, they usually talk
to each other through the stalls while they're shitting.  I'd give anything
to be in one of those stalls eating the shit directly from one of my studs'
assholes.  Sometimes I can't control myself and I'll tell them to start
hitting around without me while I finish some last-minute pre-practice
stuff.  Then I'll lock the door and go into one of the stalls and just sit
on the toilet where Adam's or Bobby's or Ethan's ass has just been and
enjoy the warm feeling.  Once or twice I've even allowed myself to eat a
little piece of a shitlog before going out there.  I just have to make sure
to make it a "film their asses" day instead of a "feel up their asses" day.
Then, when the guys are gone and I have the tennis building to myself, I
lock the doors, do all the work I have to do, and get in there and chow
down.  At first I was worried about getting hepatitis or some STD, but all
my guys are physically tested, I've made it clear to them that playing on
the tennis team and having a girlfriend or sexual relationships are
incompatible, and I control their diets and a lot of other aspects of their
lives.  So now that I've been doing it for a while I have no fear.  I am
now addicted to the taste of their shit, the smell of their shit.  Each of
them has a distinctive type of shit.  Adam's is the firmest and tastes
fucking delicious.  Ari tends to shit the most shitlogs and so his shit
makes for great little snacks.  Ethan's is a little looser and fun to play
around with.  And so on.  I just mess around in there like a pig in shit --
pardon the pun -- and then flush normally when I'm ready to go home.  It's
absolutely great but nowI find myself thinking about their asses and more
specifically their shit all the time.  I just can't get the thought of
eating the shit directly out of their asses out of my mind.

   That's where things stood until three months ago.  Here's how they stand
today:

   The team from last year was all seniors plus two students who
transferred and so I had to put together this year's team from the freshman
class, which is actually the best tennis talent pool that's probably ever
come to the school.  But I knew that if I didn't want to spend four years
in delicious frustration -- copping feels of these guys' beautiful
buttholes, licking clean their delicious shit stains, eating bowlfuls of
their shit -- I would have to come up with a way to take things to another
level.

   So, since the first road trip of the season was scheduled for late
February, I decided to make a play for one of my players on that trip. 
Remember how I told you that Andy had been propositioned by some guy on the
basketball court?  Well, basically, Andy said something to the effect of,
"Sure thing, cocksucker," and led him outside, behind some bushes, in a
fairly large and well-hidden area.  Since there were so many ways to hide
over there, I waited a minute and then followed them, hunched down on all
fours, and tried to see what they were doing.  The guy was pulling down
Andy's shorts with his teeth.  I almost gasped when Andy's dick popped out.
It was huge, long and fat, and looked good enough to eat.  And that's
exactly what the guy was doing: sucking on Andy's dick as if his life
depended on it.  I really envied him.  Meanwhile, Andy was whispering lots
of verbally humiliating things, calling the guy a "cocksucker" over and
over and telling him "You better thank me for letting you suck my cock."
When the guy pulled Andy's dick out of his mouth for a second to say,
"Thank you," Andy slapped the guy's face with his dick, poked his finger
into the guy's chest and whispered loudly, "THANK YOU SIR!" The guy said,
"Thank you, sir." I almost lost it.

   So when it came time to make the plans for this first Eastern-seaboard
road trip, I scheduled it so there would be two rooms of two and one room
of three -- my six regular players and me.  (I'm able to use my backups in
home matches sometimes but it just costs too much to travel with them.) And
I set it up so Andy was rooming with me in one room at each stop, of course
with only one bed for the two of us.  One night, I got undressed -- I sleep
in the nude -- and climbed into bed.  Then Andy got undressed down to his
white briefs and got in.  He didn't exactly get in right next to me but I
had feared he might be really uncomfortable and go all the way to the
opposite end, which he didn't.  So we were lying there and I was just
enjoying being next to his beautiful chest, nipples, sexy torso, hot legs,
cute feet, nice long dick, and especially his ass.  Several times I moved
my hand around claiming it was to get the sheet right and felt underneath
him and felt up his nude ass.  The second time I actually let a finger dart
a little way up his buttcrack but couldn't risk doing it for longer. 
Eventually I could tell from his breathing that he had fallen asleep. 
That's when I made my move.  I pulled the sheet and blanket off him and
down to the floor.  He was lying on his back and so I pushed down his
briefs and went at that long dick face first.  I started sucking it and
licking his balls and wasn't trying to be quiet about it, either.  Pretty
soon his dick started twitching involuntarily and then his body started
moving and then I looked up and watched his eyes open.  For a second he was
totally out of it.  Then he looks down and sees what I am doing and can't
believe it.  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, COACH?" he asks me.  "Your cocksucker
says thank you for letting me suck your cock, sir," I said back.  He did
another double-take, actually more like a quadruple-take.  Then he took
control.  "Oh yeah.  So you're a cocksucker, huh?" I just kept sucking his
cock, trying to get the whole thing down my throat.  "Do you know much
trouble you could get in for doing this?" he asked.  I nodded my head up
and down while keeping my mouth firmly attached to his dick.  "You could
lose your job and go to jail for rape.  I'm surprised you'd give me that
much control over you.  I guess you must really want to be my cocksucking
slave." I nodded again.  I did want to be his slave.  I wanted to be the
slave of my whole team.  I wanted to serve them in every way, culminating
in serving as their human toilet and eating the shit out of their asses. 
"Well, get used to the taste of that dick, then, 'cause you're now my slave
for the next four years." I pulled my mouth off his dick for a second and
said, "Yes, sir, thank you, sir," then tried to go back to sucking his
dick. Instead he pushed me off him and went and got the camera he used as
team photographer.  He also took the video camera I bring along to record
all our matches and set it up in a corner of the motel room.  Then he came
back into bed and, in a stunning acknowledgment of the role reversal that
was taking shape, simply stuck his cock back into my mouth as if it
belonged to him.  He took several photographs of me sucking his cock and
the video camera kept recording as he finally shot off all over my face and
chest and rubbed his cum into my pecs.  I could tell he was really getting
into his new authority over me.  I wasn't a mean coach or anything but I
knew he had an authoritarian streak and was happy to get a chance to
exercise it to the fullest.  I would have to lead him a bit to the ultimate
level I wanted him and the rest of the team to take things to, but he was
already pretty imaginative.  A few minutes after using me as his cum
receptacle, he said, "Hey, slave, I've got something else for you in this
cock you love so much." The way he said "cock" with such authority made it
sound obscenely exciting.  I got down there ready to serve.  Quickly I
realized he wasn't cumming again.  He was pissing down his coach's -- now
slave's -- throat.  I had drunk the team's piss a lot, of course, and was
ready to gulp, but he had a lot of piss stored up from a car ride filled
with soda and some of his piss overflowed out of my mouth onto my face,
cheeks, chin, into my hair, all over.  The video camera was still
recording. Finally, when he was done, he got up and told me to go take a
shower.  I did.  When I came back, he went to the bathroom.  I looked all
over for the videotape, thinking he probably put it into his bag.  I didn't
find it anywhere.  Eventually he came back out and told me to spend the
rest of the night with my face on his cock.  I gratefully did so.  At about
six o'clock, he woke me up by slapping my face with his cock the way he had
that guy in the bushes.  "Start sucking, slave," he said when he saw my
eyes open.  I did.

   During practice before the match, I was really going after the guys,
yelling at them, to get them ready for this important match and road trip.
During the match, which he won, I moved from court to court depending on
who needest guidance the most at any given time.  Each time I yelled at
Andy, though, he made a glowering face that told me I was going to be in
deep trouble later that night.  And I was.  "How dare you yell at me,
slave?" he asked me as soon as we got into our motel room that night.  "I'm
sorry, Sir," I said.  I didn't think he actually expected me to change my
coaching style.  But he did.  "From now on, you don't yell at me.  Got it,
slave?" I meekly apologized and wondered for the first time what I was
getting myself into.

   But I knew I was on the right track.  The next night, he again made me
sleep with my face on his cock.  But this time, I made sure he went to
sleep first again.  Then I gently, gently turned him over onto his stomach,
removed the sheet and blanket, and pulled down his briefs.  His ass was a
beautiful sight to behold.  I gently but firmly spread his asscheeks with
my hands and for a few minutes just stared in awe of his gorgeous pink
rosebud.  Then I did what I'd been dreaming of doing for so long: stuck my
tongue up his ass and started giving him the rim job of a lifetime. 
Deliciously enough, he had gone to the bathroom just before bed and there
were still some traces of fresh shit.  I went after them hungrily and said,
"Mmm..." I don't know whether it was the rim job or the sound of
contentment, but he woke up and turned around fast and saw what I was
doing. "HOW DARE YOU?!" he screamed at me.

   Then he scampered out of bed and told me to lie on the bed on my
stomach. He came back a minute later with one of the racquets with a broken
string from that day's match.  He just walked up to me and laid into my
bare ass with that racquet.  I couldn't believe it!  The pain was really
intense.  I was loving every minute of it.  He said "Fifteen love" after
the first stroke, "Thirty love" after the second stroke, "Forty love" after
the third, and "Game" after the fourth, then started again with "Fifteen
love" after the fifth.  As I was wondering whether he was going to put me
through a three-set or five-set match, he stopped for a second and walked
to the front of the bed.  "Is that what I think it is?" he asked, rubbing
something off my nose.  I looked at his finger, it had a speck of brown on
it.  He put it up to his nose and apparently confirmed that it was indeed a
little speck of shit I had cleaned from his ass.  I knew this was a key
moment in the development of his mastery over me.

   "So you like the smell of my shit huh?  Actually, you must like the
taste of my shit too.  How interesting." He stopped for a second as if a
thought had just hit him.  "Wait a minute.  It's all coming together. 
There isn't anything wrong with the plumbing at the tennis building, is
there?" I paused for a minute and then, looking down, shook my head no.  He
continued, "And the only reason you have us shit there is so you can eat it
later." I paused again and nodded yes, never making eye contact.  "And the
only reason you do our laundry is so you can smell and taste our shit." I
nodded yes.  "Follow me," he said, leading the way to the bathroom.  I
followed him, watching the bouncing ass I had just eaten out.

   He told me to kneel down in front of the toilet bowl.  "Apparently I
didn't get all the shit out of my ass tonight," he said, sitting down on
the rim seat.  He farted a couple of times while looking directly down at
me with a menacing look on his face.  Then his sphincter audibly opened up
and a couple very small pieces of shit dropped into the toilet.  He told me
I was going to perform a "taste test." First, he got up and turned around
so his ass was directly over my face and specifically my mouth.  "Get to
work," he said.  I did, licking that soiled anus with all my might, sucking
the shit out of it, licking it clean, leaving it cleaner and pinker than
the day he was born.  He occasionally moaned his approval.  When I was
done, he pointed to the shit in the bowl and said, "Part two." I had eaten
his shit from the toilet bowl in the tennis building countless times and he
knew it, but I knew he wanted to actually witness me doing it.  I did,
finishing it quickly.  He asked me which tasted better.  "I prefer eating
your shit straight out of your ass, Sir," I responded meekly.  "Good to
know, slave," he said.  You would think it would seem odd for this
18-year-old to be calling his muscular, masculine 26-year-old tennis coach
"slave" but after just a couple days it already sounded completely natural.
He went back into the bedroom, finished my spanking -- a full five-setter
-- told me to sleep with my face on his ass tonight, and promptly went to
bed.

   When I woke up in the morning he told me I had "overslept." He then said
something that sent chills down my spine.  "I had a meeting with the rest
of the team this morning.  They're coming over in twenty minutes to tell
you about some permanent changes we're going to be making." I had wanted to
end up serving my team as their sex slave and specifically as their toilet
slave.  What I hadn't counted on was that my submission would be much more
complete.  I must have been in a daze, because it seemed like twenty
seconds later when several guys knocked on the door.  "Stay there for now,
slave," Andy (Sir?  Master?) told me as he went to answer it.  Instead of
transgressing his orders and running to put on a pair of underwear, I just
pulled the sheets over my lower body.  In walked Andy, Bobby, Adam, Ari,
Ethan and Kyle.  Each of them looked down at me with an evil grin that
said, "The game is up.  We know all about you."

   Adam was the first to speak.  "Andy told us about your new, ahem,
relationship, coach.  He told us you're his cocksucker and ass-licker and
toilet.  He told us about the plumbing 'problem' in the tennis building,"
he said, making little quotation marks with his fingers.  "He told us about
how our laundry gets 'cleaned.' Is it all true, coach?" "Yeah, coach,"
Bobby asked, "Is it really true?" "I can't believe it's true," Ari said. 
"Yeah, tell them, slave," Andy said, ripping the covers off me and exposing
my naked body and incredibly hard cock.  I heard someone gasp and someone
say, "Oh my god" as I tried to cover my groin with my hands but Andy pushed
them away.  I just nodded and turned my head away from them.  "How
interesting," Andy said, as he had the night before.  "Well, guys, I told
you so.  Now what do you say, shall we explain the new rules to him?"
Nobody said anything.  I guess they either nodded assent or at least didn't
say no, because Andy then started laying out the new rules of, basically,
my life.

   "First," he said.  "You are now our slave for at least the next four
years.  We have enough evidence against you to make you lose this job and
any other you ever get, not to mention to send you to prison for a long
time." He was right.  They had a lot on videotape and would later get me to
make videotaped and written confessions to all sorts of things for use as
blackmail.  There was no way out of this for the next four years and really
for as long as any of them wanted.  "Your name is slave," he told me. 
"Each of us is Master to you.  Master Ethan, Master Kyle, etc."

   "Since freshmen can move off campus after first semester, you are going
to leave your current apartment and the seven of us are going to rent a
house together where you will serve as our sex slave, toilet slave, and any
other kind of slave we choose." He didn't wait for me to give my assent or
anything.  I had no say in the matter.  This is just the way it was going
to be.

   "From now on, you don't yell at us during practice.  In fact, you don't
even talk to us during practice.  You don't talk to us, period, unless
spoken to and ordered to respond, in which case you respond immediately and
fully.  We run this team from now on, in practice and every other area. 
You will still do the things your job requires you to do in order to keep
your job, but we control the team, NOT YOU.  You will immediately give your
salary each month to me as treasurer for the six of us.  We will use it to
give you your basic needs and otherwise will use it as we wish."

   "Any time you make a mistake or any of us feels like punishing you, you
will be spanked with a tennis racquet.  Get used to the way it feels and
the way it makes your ass look.  Most of the time your primary duties as
sex slave will be as our team cocksucker and ass-licker.  However, anytime
any of us wants a piece of your ass you will gladly give it up."

   This was the first time I mustered the courage to turn back toward them
and look at them, hoping they might be watching Andy talk.  Instead, all
eyes were focussed on me.  I knew several different thoughts were running
through their heads.  First was total and complete shock that their
attractive, masculine coach -- who had been a major authority figure over
them -- was now in the position of submissive slave to the six of them. 
The next was amazement that they were actually going to go through with
this plan to use me for their pleasure and gratification.  I knew it was
unlikely that I would get to fuck their asses, but even straight guys
sometimes feel comfortable using a guy as a cocksucker or for a rim job, or
even as a convenient piece of ass.  That's what I was now.

   Then Andy got to the part I was waiting for.  "Finally, you will serve
as our personal toilet.  You will drink our piss.  You will eat our shit.
And I mean, directly out of our asses.  We will not be buying toilet paper
except for guests.  Your tongue will be our toilet paper." My body jerked
involuntarily when he said this and my hand started moving toward my
rock-hard cock.  He pushed it away again and told me, "We all had an early
breakfast in town this morning and we're ready for service, toilet.  Get in
the bathroom, NOW!" I've never moved so fast in my life as I knelt down at
the toilet bowl again.

   Andy came in first and brought in Ari who kept saying, "I can't believe
this.  I can't believe it." Andy said, "I'll show you" and bent over with
his asshole directly over my tongue.  He left a little space between them
so Ari could see the shit trickle out of his ass.  I saw his circular
asshole dilate and a piece of shit start to come out.  I immediately moved
my mouth into position and started sucking that shit in like ice cream from
a cone.  Ari screamed "OH MY GOD" as I sucked it all in and chomped it
down. "CLEAN ME UP, TOILET!" Andy barked and I shoved my tongue up his
shithole and cleaned it completely.  Ari took off his hot red lycra shorts
and his briefs and told me to "stick your mouth right on my asshole." I
guess he believed Andy now because he sure got into the dominant mode
pretty quick.  I obeyed his orders and he nearly exploded when his shit
started easing out of his asshole and directly down my throat.  I then did
a professional cleaning job on him.  As he put his briefs back on and
walked out, he told Andy, "I'm gonna love this."

   Adam came next.  He put that full, diaper-sized butthole in my face and
I did the honors, eating his shit and rimming his asshole clean.  He told
me to kiss his asshole and thank his asshole for the delicious shit.  It
sounded sensible to me.  I expressed my gratitude to his asshole and as he
walked out he tweaked my nipples and called me a "piece of shit." Bobby
walked in and bent over in my face.  Now, being as tall as he is, he really
had to push his ass outward to brace himself against the bathroom wall. 
That ass came right up in my face.  Like Adam, he came in nude.  I was glad
to see that they were losing their modesty and inhibitions quickly.  Bobby
ordered me to lick his ass clean before he even shit.  Then once I had, he
farted directly in my face -- amazing what delicious cruelty can come from
that baby-faced ass-stud -- and shit into my mouth.  He cursed me out for a
bad cleaning job and ordered me to "redo it." He came into the toilet as I
rimmed him clean again.

   Ethan came in in his blue lycra shorts and told me how he had had "a lot
to drink" at breakfast this morning.  So before I even got to work on his
ass, he stuck his piss-pipe in my mouth and let loose with a major flow of
gold juice.  He laughed evilly when I belched after drinking it all up. 
Then he told me to pull down his shorts with my tongue.  I did, but they
kept getting stuck in his ass crevice.  He then told me to rim his ass
thoroughly -- not just his asshole -- and not to get his shorts or
underwear wet.  I tried but made a few mess-ups.  He counted them out each
time and got to four.  Then he told me to "eat my fucking shit" and used
his hands to spread the most beautiful asscheeks I'd ever seen and reveal
his gorgeous shithole.  He started shitting almost immediately and I had to
struggle to get in position in time.  When he finished he ordered me to
clean him up and walked out going "tsk tsk." I shivered with fear at the
thought of what would happen to me.

   Finally, Kyle came in and presented me with his gorgeous ass covered in
blue-green briefs.  I removed them and he immediately started shitting.  I
guess I was still thinking about the mistakes I had made in serving Ethan
because a piece of Kyle's shit hit the tile floor before I knew what was
happening.  I bent down in shame to try to pick it up with my teeth but
Kyle stopped me and told me to "just finish the job." I ate his shit
gratefully and then gave him the best cleaning job of all in the hopes he
might not make a big deal about the mistake.  Instead, he called out to the
others with a wicked smile down at me and showed them what I had done.  "Oh
shit," one of them joked.  I knew I was in for it.

   Then Andy spoke.  "Remember I said you should get used to being spanked.
Well, that's not your only punishment but it's all you're going to get for
now.  You can just think about what else it will involve." With that, each
of them in turn gave me a "game's" worth of spankings.  With six of them,
that meant a complete set.  Actually, they went through the line five
times, so it meant another complete five-set "match" worth of spankings. 
My butt was now on fire but the prospect of more punishment and of four
years -- and maybe a lifetime -- of total servitude dulled some of the
pain. It returned, though, when I sat down in the backseat of the team van
-- now driven by Master Andy -- and set back for home and the anticipation
of what was to come.

   THE END...FOR NOW...

  
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   Author's Note: As I indicated in previous postings, I'm a 23-year-old
grad student in New York for the summmer, 6'2", 280, br/br.  I'm going to
be basically completely free -- between work and school -- between August
17th and 4th.  I would love to get together with one or more guys for
rimming/scat sessions, either as bottom or mutual.  I have recently broken
up with my boyfriend and am looking for summer fun only.  If you're a
good-looking guy who loves to have his ass licked, e-mail me at
nysummer@netcom.com -- I'd like to spend as much of the next three weeks
having rimming/scat fun as possible.  -- nysummer