Date: Sun, 2 Aug 1998 18:45:07 EDT
From: TheoNorth@aol.com
Subject: LeaDR House Ch. 6

WARNING: The following is a work of fiction containing (hopefully) graphic
descriptions of sex between any number of willing men. (Note: In this
chapter, some of the men are not 100% willing.) If this sort of material
offends you, you shouldn't be reading it. If you are too young to read this
sort of material, you shouldn't be reading it. If however, you are of age
and you're sitting in your dorm room and no one else is around and you
can't figure out why you get a hard-on every time your best buddy drops his
shorts and heads to the shower...read on my friend.

This story is fictional. Any similarities between the men in this story and
the men that you know are purely coincidental, although the author wouldn't
mind hearing about them himself.

Comments may be sent to TheoNorth@aol.com

Constructive criticism will be accepted. Praise will be absorbed. Flames
will be ignored.

Now, without further ado . . .


                           LeaDR HOUSE
                          by Theo North

                            Chapter 6
              in which David goes to the steam room
                        and blows a gasket

The sweat beaded on David's chest and stomach as the boy gasped and puffed,
trying to regulate his breathing while the giant cock drilled steadily in
and out of his hole. He couldn't remember ever feeling so full...so full of
dick or so full of love.

"Ohhhhhhh, yes.....please, more.....fuck me harder.. Please!"

David reached up to grab one of the stud's thick, juicy nipples. He twisted
it and the man pounding into him moaned. "You like that?" the boy asked.

"Yessssssssssss..." came the response. David gave a wicked grin and leaned
forward, latching his mouth onto the meaty tit and sucking. His tongue
swirled around, tasting the salty sweat, feeling the soft grate of the
man's fur under his searching tongue. He lightly chewed on the nip and got
another happy moan from his top stud.

He leaned back and stared into his father's eyes. "Oh god Dad....fuck me!
Fuck me HARD!"

With that, his father began to throw David the most serious fuck of the
boy's life. None of his frat brothers had ever felt this good. Not even
Kent, the gardener, had made his ass sing like this.  David was in another
world of fuck-pleasure. "OOOOH YES! COME ON DAD! Fuck your boy good! Come
on, fuck me hard....fuck that hot boycunt and fill it with your
father-seed! PLEASE!  FUCK ME!!!"

The thrusts in his ass grew stronger and faster. The cock inside him
swelled up. David knew the end was near. His own cock was swollen thick and
hard and his balls were hanging onto the base good and tight. He would
shoot his own load soon, but he wanted to time it with his dad's.

"Come on Dad! Fuck me! Cum! Please cum dad! DAD!!!!!!!"

Dad?

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" David screamed as he sat
up straight in his dog basket at the foot of Josh's bed. "No...oh
fuck....no." David shuddered. Now the Dream Lover had a face . . . only not
a face he was expecting. His father's face. Oh christ.  How could he
possibly have been fantasizing about his father for the past two years?
Since he was 16? He cursed himself silently.

"David, you OK? Calm down buddy. You were just having a bad dream," said
Josh, looking over the foot of the bed.

"Well, it was bad at the end. Actually, it sounded pretty good up until
that last part," added Randy, peering over the side of the bed next to
Josh. David's moans...and then his scream...had roused the pair from their
own post-coital sleep in the bed above David.

"Shit," David said quietly. How much had the two heard? How much did David
actually say out loud? What was real and what was part of the dream, he
wondered.

Suddenly the room felt claustrophobic. David was hot. He couldn't
breathe. He couldn't think. He needed to get away to ... anywhere. Just not
here. Blushing, sweating, still sporting a hard-on and obviously flustered
and confused, David got up from the bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, a
t-shirt and his Nike's.

"David, what are you doing?" Josh asked.

"I'm going for a walk," the boy said.

"But . . ." Josh tried to protest but David quickly slipped out the door.

Outside LeaDR House, David breathed the cool night air and relaxed a
little. He began walking down the quiet, empty street toward campus and
tried to replay the events of the night in his head. He had the dream
again. The same dream he had been having for almost two years now. In the
dream, a large, well-built, hairy, older man takes David into his arms. He
holds the boy and caresses him softly. The two kiss passionately, hands
exploring. David feels the man's hard, fur-covered muscle while the man
strokes David's smooth, firm, teen-aged body. Slowly, the man leans David
back and raises the boy's legs into the air. He puts the legs on his
shoulders and then slowly, patiently, eases his large cock into the boy's
tight ass. Once inside, though, the tenderness fades and the two give in to
the rough, animal lusts inside them. They fuck hard. Sweat pours from their
bodies. They gasp and moan and shout obscenities. The smells and sounds
which fill the room only make David more horny and in the end, he shoots a
powerful load all over his chest as the man pours his hot spunk into
David's ass. When David wakes, he can recall every detail of the dream
. . . every detail but one. Before tonight, he never remembered the man's
face.

Hell, before tonight, he'd have sworn the man never had a face. It was like
some sort of gauzy veil obscured his vision and prevented him from seeing
who his impaler was. Tonight, though, the veil had lifted ... and there was
his father. But it couldn't be, David's mind told him. No, it hadn't been
his father all the other times. Something strange in his subconscious had
obviously brought his father into the dream tonight. David racked his brain
trying to think of a reason for that. His father had called him on the
phone earlier in the evening, just to check on him and see how his classes
were going. That must have been it, David's mind concluded. He spoke to his
father before going to bed and so he had dreamed about his father. Yes.

But his doubting heart started to nibble at him. You dreamed of your father
fucking you hard up the ass because he called you on the phone? Does that
make any sense?

Yes, his mind argued. It has to. It's the only explanation.

Face it, the heart argued. You dreamed of your father tonight because it
has always been your father in the dream.

No!

Yes. Look at the body. That's your father's body. You've seen it by the
pool a million times. You just never saw the face before tonight.

NO! screamed his mind. NO! The man's not him. He's not the man ... he
... no .... it ... oh fuck. It was him. It was always him ... Dad ... David
admitted to himself.

As if pouting over the loss of the argument, David's mind refused to work
after that. David just stood there on the sidewalk, tears filling his
eyes. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," he muttered. "What kind of person am I? Oh
fuck. I'll never be able to face my dad again."

For a long time, he just stood there in the dark night with tears running
down his cheeks.

Slowly, his feet started moving. He took tiny, shuffling steps, heading
nowhere in particular because he had nowhere to go. He didn't want to go
back to the house. He still wasn't sure what Josh and Randy had actually
heard and he wasn't up to answering questions. So, he wandered toward the
campus.

With each step, David's grief turned to anger, than to hatred. He hated
himself for the things he dreamt of at night. He hated his perverse
sexuality. He hated his own fraternity brothers for encouraging his
exploration. He hated Kent for introducing him to mansex. He hated gay men
in general . . . he hated everybody and everything as he attempted to throw
the blame and the anger in any direction other than at himself. The tears
of despair he had shed earlier were now followed by the red-hot, stinging
tears of blind rage.

He came to a stop and looked up for the first time since he left the
house. He was in front of the athletics building. Yeah, he thought, that
would be ok. The building was open all night, although no one would be
there at this hour. David didn't have his workout gear with him, but he
could take a quick shower, wash off the tears and move on into the steam
room to relax and try to calm down.

Twenty minutes later, David was resting on the warm tiles of the steam room
tiers, breathing in the thick air. The need to breathe deep and steady
through his mouth enabled him to calm down.  His sexual fears and confusion
were lost as the thick steam enveloped his head and David began to feel
almost drowsy. The steam grew thicker and thicker and David could barely
make out the door on the far side of the room. He stretched his legs out
and relished the burn of the hot tiles on his skin. He threw his head back
against the corner behind him and closed his eyes. The steam room was like
his own private world; he was warm and secure. There was no one here to
judge him. No "perverted" thoughts to invade his sleep. He felt good.

"I'LL SHOW YOU WHO'S A REAL MAN YOU FUCKER!!!"

David's reverie was shattered as the door to the steam room burst open and
two figures stormed in. The cloud of steam was too thick for him to make
out who they were, but he could tell that they were both pretty large and,
judging from their deep voices, they were older.

The smaller of the two men, the one who had shouted about being a real man
when the door opened, pushed his larger buddy to one of the benches on the
side of the room near the door. He grabbed the musclestud's bald head and
ground his cock against the guy's face. "I know what you've been wanting,
you horndog. I seen you checking out my jockstrap in the weight room."

"Fuck you," the muscled man said.

"No, no. I'm going to fuck YOU."

With that the smaller guy grabbed the big stud's legs, shoved them up in
the air and, without ceremony, shoved his hard cock up his buddy's ass.

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!!!!! FUCK yeah, Carl. Damn you fuck good for an old
guy."

"That's cause I got lots of experience in the Marines fucking big, dumb,
muscle jocks like you, Billy-boy," Carl responded as he plowed his buddy's
ass.

"Dumb, huh? Well, would a dumb jock know how to do this?" Billy asked as he
clenched his ass muscles, milking his partner's cock. Carl moaned and the
two studs laughed as they fucked and traded insults.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU TWO ASSHOLES THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

The two men froze mid-stroke. Their terrified faces looked across the steam
room at the young man yelling at them.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! A GUY CAN'T EVEN GO TO THE GYM IN THIS FUCKING
SCHOOL WITHOUT FINDING A COUPLE OF FAGS BANGING BUTT!!" David yelled. His
anger consumed him. All night he had looked for someone to blame, someplace
to vent his confusion and shame. Now he had found his opportunity. David
didn't know who these two older studs were, but they would rue the day they
ever decided to fuck in the same steam room as him.

"YOU TWO PERVERTS GET OFF FUCKING BUTT IN FRONT OF AN AUDIENCE?  HUH?"

The two men remained silent. The bigger one, still kneeling on the tiled
bench, began to tremble.  His buddy could see the fear washing over the
young man. "Calm down, Billy," he whispered.  "Just let me handle this."

David walked closer and recognized the two jocks in front of him. "Well,
well, well.... I see it's Coach-Sex Night in the steam room. Coach Fulsom
and Coach Barnett, you two fags like to come in here and fuck?"

"Awwww christ," moaned Coach Carl Fulsom as the situation spiraled out of
control. Still, maybe, if he could just get Barnett to calm down so the two
of them could present a united front against this kid...maybe they could
save their jobs. Coach rested his strong hand on his buddy's hip to calm
the stud and peered through the steam. He realized, then, that there was
one more complication: he knew the kid. "He's one of mine, Bill."

"Wh-wh-who is it?" asked the younger coach.

"A kid named David James. He's a freshman," said Carl sadly.

"James? OH FUCK! Come spring he's one of mine, too!"

Carl Fulsom was the swim coach at St. Winston's and had been training his
team through the fall months. At 6-foot even, he was built more bulky than
a lot of swimmers due to his years in the Marines. The coach was 54, but if
you ignored his graying and slightly receding hair, you couldn't tell he
was a day over 35. His broad chest had a light dusting of dark hair. His
thighs were thick as tree-trunks which gave him an enticing swagger when he
walked. His triangular torso, thin waist and tight round ass looked good in
almost any clothes, but when he packed his eight-inch, uncut cock into a
pair of Speedo's, Coach Fulsom was one of the most breathtakingly beautiful
sights on the St. Winston's campus.

Bill Barnett was the school's baseball coach. At 27, he had just started at
St. Winston's last spring and was the youngest head coach at the school. He
was 6'2" tall with a chest like a barrel. Barnett was an amateur
body-builder and competed some during baseball's off-season. He had the
hard, rounded muscles that went with the sport. His shoulders were like two
giant slabs of rock atop his chiseled body. Despite all his efforts,
Barnett could never get six-pack definition on his abs; instead, he had a
hard, flat slab of muscle that stood out over his lower torso. The lack of
defined abs bothered him some, but he more than made up for it with the
incredible proportions of his pecs, arms and legs. Like all body-builders,
Barnett kept himself shaved for competition, but he had taken the practice
to an extreme. In addition to shaving his chest, arms, legs, ass and
crotch, Coach Barnett had shaved his entire head. He had shaved his asshole
and his balls (which were hidden from the judges by the posing strap). The
only hair on the muscular stud's body was a goatee on his face and a tiny
one-inch square of pubic hair above the top of his five-inch, cut cock.

Coach Barnett remembered David's name from his spring roster. The coach
knew he had met the kid during a recruitment visit last year, but he had
met a lot of kids and he wouldn't have been able to single David out from
any of the other humpy freshmen wandering around the athletic
center....until now. Now, he would always remember David James as the kid
who ended his career at St. Winston's ...  possibly his career everywhere!

David saw the scared looks on his coaches' faces and a frightening thing
happened inside him.  David James, normally a considerate, eager-to-please,
GOOD kid, felt absolutely no pity at all.  When a young man is holding in
as much anger as David was at that moment, he's got to find some sort of an
outlet for his rage. David realized two outlets were standing in front of
him, trembling in fear of what he might do next. David could feel himself
getting ready to be a first-class bad-ass.

"What the FUCK do you two think you're doing in here?" David barked.

The men stared at him, afraid to speak.

"David, th-th-this isn't what it looks like..." Coach Fulsom started to
protest.

"Oh no? That's funny. 'Cause it looks to me like you're fucking Coach
Barnett's ass. That's a pretty hard thing to get confused about. I heard
you say you were going to fuck him and now he's bent over in front of you
and you have your hard cock up his ass. If you weren't fucking him, maybe
you'd like to explain what the hell you were doing!"

Coach Fulsom was shocked. He had never seen anything in David's behavior to
suggest he was capable of yelling and back-talking his coach like this. The
grown man said nothing. He was starting to feel sick.

"Were you fucking Coach Barnett up the ass?

"Yes," the coach whispered.

"WHAT??"

"Yes," the coach replied louder.

"That's YES SIR."

Coach Fulsom's head snapped up to look David in the eye. "Now you listen to
me, you little fuck..."

"NO! YOU listen to ME! I could have your fuckin' jobs, both of you. All I
have to do is march out of here to the athletic director's office and tell
him I saw the two of you playing rump rangers in the steam room."

That was it for Coach Barnett. His worst fears had been realized. He was
going to lose his job and be exposed as a cock-lover. The big man started
to cry.

Fulsom shot the baseball coach a dangerous look, as he tried to get the
upperhand in the argument. "It's your word against ours," Fulsom told
David. "That's two respected coaches against some punk, trouble-making
freshman."

David grinned. "You want to play it that way? Fine. It's the word of two
coaches at a private, exclusive, very expensive college against the word of
a student at that college ....  How much do you two fuckers get paid?"

Barnett was sobbing. Fulsom was silent. He didn't know where the kid was
going with this argument, but he could feel the sickness in his stomach
returning.

"My dad makes more than you two shitheads combined will ever dream of
making. And he's an alumnus of St. Winston's and says this school made him
the man he is today. He's so grateful, he makes VERY BIG donations each
year. Now, do you think this school is going to risk pissing off my dad by
calling me a liar just to keep a couple of pervert coaches on staff?"

Fulsom was defeated. The bile in his stomach was rising.

"Not to mention what's going to happen when I start telling people how you
two fuck each other up the ass and pretend that you're getting it on with
your students."

"That's a fucking lie!" Fulsom countered.

"Is it? Is it a lie? BARNETT?!!" The big man with the hard body was leaning
on the tiled bench, his face buried in his hands as he wept. "BARNETT! Do
you and Coach Fulsom like to buttfuck each other and pretend you're getting
it on with the players on your team?"

The room was silent, save for Barnett's sobs. The two men knew they should
never, could never answer that question. Fucking another coach in the steam
room...well, maybe they could keep their jobs for that offense. But
admitting you had the hots for the men on your teams was a one-way ticket
to unemployment.

"ANSWER ME ASSHOLE! YOU EVER TAKE COACH FULSOM'S COCK UP YOUR STINKING
MANHOLE AND DREAM YOU'RE GETTING NAILED BY THE SHORTSTOP OF YOUR TEAM, HUH?
... YOU EVER DREAM OF THROWING YOUR FIRST BASEMEN'S LEGS IN THE AIR AND
FUCKING HIS TIGHT PUCKER WIDE OPEN.  HUH?" David yelled.


"KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT, BILLY! TELL THIS ASSHOLE TO GO FUCK HIMSELF!
YOU KNOW HE'S A FUCKING LIAR! TELL HIM TO FUCK OFF!!" Coach Fulsom was
yelling in Barnett's other ear.

"YOU EVER DREAM ABOUT THE BOYS ON YOUR TEAM GANG-RAPING YOUR HORNY HOLE IN
THE SHOWERS AFTER A BIG GAME?" David continued. "YOU DO, DON'T YOU FUCKER?
YOU KNOW YOU DO! NOW ANSWER ME! GIVE ME THE TRUTH!"

"BARNETT! DON'T YOU FUCKING SAY A WORD...."

The noise, the yelling, the hot trash that David was talking, the confusion
and despair in his own head....it all proved too much for Bill Barnett. He
cracked. "YES SIR! Yes, I do dream about it!  We both do. We talk about it
all the time. But that's all we do, is talk. Fuck, we've never ever made a
pass at a student. I swear! ... Christ, Carl, I'm sorry, but the kid knows
everything. He can fuckin' see it on our faces. ... FUCK! I can't help it
man. The kid's right. I want to get fucked by those hard-muscled studs so
bad...Oh GOD!" the man was bawling now and his moans were echoing off the
tiles.

"Fulsom! Shove your cock in that asshole's mouth before someone hears him
crying!" David barked.

Coach Fulsom's eyes raged with anger, betrayal and surprise. He didn't know
what David' game was, but he knew that for now he'd better play along. He
sure as hell couldn't count on the big body-building pussy he used to think
of as a friend. Christ, he hated this fuckin' kid, and when he got out of
here, he was going to kick Barnett's ass. GOD DAMN IT! Why didn't he and
Bill just take two minutes to look around the steam room before they
started buggering each other. Damn.

"Yes, SIR!" he spit the words out as he moved around to Barnett's front end
and shoved his prick into the baseball coach's mouth. Barnett didn't
exactly suck the cock in his mouth, but the gulps and gasps of his choking
sobs had the same effect on Fulsom. The swim coach could feel himself
growing hard in the familiar warmth of his buddy's mouth. "Oooooh," Fulsom
moaned softly.

"Like I said, once word gets out that you two have the hots for the guys on
your teams, I bet all sorts of swimmers and baseball players are going to
start to wonder about the way coach was looking at them in the locker
room. Maybe they'll think that rub-down you gave them after practice wasn't
strictly therapeutic. Maybe they'll want to sue St. Winston's. Just
imagine, lots and lots of wealthy families not only refusing to give money
to the school, but suing to get money FROM the school. No, I think when it
comes down to it, your word ain't worth shit in this argument." David
grinned triumphantly.

Barnett was again sobbing and crying , despite the (admittedly deflated)
cock in his mouth.  Fulsom was sure he was going to throw up now.

"Now...are you two boy-fuckers still going to play the 'your word against
mine' game, or are you going to start playing by my rules?"

There was silence as the two men sulked. Utterly defeated they knew they
had no choice but to do whatever the kid said and hope that he wouldn't
turn them in. David knew it, too.

*CLICK*

The two coaches looked up startled as David locked the door to the steam
room.

"ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES ON THE FLOOR! BOTH OF YOU! NOW!"

"Yes sir!" The two coaches scrambled into position.

"You two fuckers need to be punished. You need to learn that there are
costs that have to be paid when you get stupid with your dicks!"

The two coaches trembled.

The steam had shut down for one of its breaks and the visibility was
improved. David could clearly see the two coaching studs on their hands and
knees before him. Their well-muscled asses in the air, waiting for him to
do whatever the hell he wanted. David was twisting a wet towel into a tight
little whip as he ogled his captives. Despite his relatively small cock,
Barnett had a big, smooth pair of pink low-hangers dangling down below his
clean-shaven ass.

SMACK!

"AAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Barnett screamed. Snapping a towel at another guy
was a form of locker-room torture as old as time. But generally, you
snapped at the ass.  When Barnett felt that wet towel crack against his
bull-nuts he saw stars. "FUCK!" he cried.

SMACK!

"AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!"

On the floor, Fulsom looked over and could see his buddy's face curled in
pain. Though he couldn't see behind him, Fulsom heard the snaps of the
towel and could guess the rest. He tensed, waiting his turn.

"You want to watch Coach Barnett take his punishment, Fulsom?" David asked.

The coach's head spun in confusion. He had a feeling there was no answer
that would enable him to avoid a similar fate. He just wondered what answer
would result in less torture. In the end, though, he knew what answer was
required of him, which one he MUST give to the young asshole who was
suddenly his master: "Yes sir."

"GET UP!" David growled, grabbing the older man by the shoulder and hauling
him off the floor.  "I want you to squat down right here. DON'T SIT. Just
squat with your legs spread and your body hunched."

"But...Sir, please!" Fulsom pleaded. "No, please sir!" Fulsom struggled but
David was surprisingly strong for a teen-ager. He was also quick. As he
held the swim coach's shoulders, preventing him from struggling away, David
swiftly raised a knee to Fulsom's nuts. The coach was blinded with pain and
moaned quietly.

"NOW SQUAT THERE!"

"Yes, sir," said Fulsom in a small and pathetic voice as he attempted to
hold the position he was instructed. He was whimpering, both from the pain
in his balls and from the knowledge of the pain that was sure to come, for
David was instructing the swim coach to squat down over the room's steam
jet. When the steam came on...which it should do sometime soon...it would
spray directly onto Fulsom's asshole and balls.

David returned his attention to Coach Barnett. Another snap or two of the
towel and the coach's nuts were swollen up like red plums. Barnett's mind
was spinning from the pain and the man was sobbing again, loudly. David
knelt on the tile floor next to the baseball coach. "You got a nice looking
asshole, coach."

"Thank you SIR," said Barnett, fear still quavering in his voice.

"You keep it nice and smooth." David looked at Fulsom. "Do you shave this
pretty hole for him?"

"Yes sir." Fulsom replied. Despite his predicament, the big stud's cock
throbbed.

David gave Coach Fulsom a nasty look as he slowly sucked his index finger,
getting it wet. He then spread Coach Barnett's big, meaty cheeks and slid
his finger deep into the coach's clean-shaven, pink pucker.

Beneath him, Barnett gave a satisfied moan. The kid's long finger slid deep
into the coach's tight ass. "Mmmmmmmmmmm. Yesssssssssssssssssss," the coach
hissed.

"You're a hot little slut, aren't you coach?" David teased, sliding his
finger in and out.

"Yes sir," Barnett cooed.

David slipped the index finger of his other hand inside the hole, alongside
the first finger. The coach wriggled his ass a bit to adjust to the young
man's long fingers up his chute. Then Barnett started screaming....

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWGGGGGGH! OWWWW! OH SHIT, SIR, PLEASE!!!" the
coach yelled as David hooked one finger onto each side of the muscle-stud's
pucker and began to stretch that opening wide. David pulled and pulled,
stretching the coach's shitter wide open, as the big man beneath him moaned
and pounded his fists on the tile floor. "OOOH please, sir....please,
mercy..."

While David worked on stretching Barnett's ass, there was an ominous
ticking from the iron pipes that provided the room's steam. Large beads of
sweat broke out on Fulsom's forehead and he began babbling to the young
slave master before him. "Oh please, sir...please, let me move....damn it,
James, the damn heats going to scald my nuts....please
man....please.....PLEASE!!!"

David pulled one hand out of Barnett's ass and tossed the other coach a
steam-soaked hand towel.  "Twist up that towel and tie three knots in
it. When you finish the third knot, you can move."

Coach Fulsom snatched the towel and went to work. He gave it a few quick
twists and then started tying a knot in one end. The rumblings from the
pipes were getting louder and he could feel heat starting to rise from the
jet between his thick thighs.

David grinned as he finger-fucked his baseball coach and watched his swim
coach frantically racing time to (literally) save his own ass. Fulsom had
the second knot tied and was starting the third knot. A frantic grin of
victory was just breaking out on his face when the jets released.

The coach's blood-curdling scream echoed off the tile walls and, had
anybody else been in the gym, they would have heard the man's cry of
pain. The steam blasted Fulsom's balls, instantly turning them red and
burning them. It hit his puckered asshole full-force and the coach knew he
wouldn't be able to sit for a while. Hell, he'd be lucky to walk
normal. The hot, wet steam continued to pour out onto the man's tortured
body as he screamed and jumped from his position over the jet. He had not
remained over the jet for more than a couple of seconds, but as he writhed
on the tile floor clutching his wounded nuts and sore asshole, Carl Fulsom
was sure he would remember those two seconds as lasting an eternity.

"BAD COACH! BAD!" David screamed at the wounded man at his feet. "I told
you not to move until there were three knots in this towel. I only see two
knots, boy! You know what happens to bad coaches? They get punished,
asshole! Like Barnett here! I'm going to punish his ass good.  Fulsom, you
dumb-fuck, you can watch me work over ol' Barnett here and while you do,
just remember that you're going to get it twice as bad as him."

The anger in David was seething now as he grabbed the towel from Fulsom's
hands and tied the final knot in it. "BARNETT! Get your sorry ass front and
center!"

Barnett, truly scared now that he had seen his fuck-buddy get his balls
steam-tortured, moved quickly to the center of the room. "Yes, SIR!"

"Bend over and grab your ankles!" David commanded. He took a true delight
in seeing the big muscleman bend over. The erector muscles along either
side of Barnett's spine popped up as the big man bent forward. His powerful
glutes were spread and David could see the strain on his hamstrings as he
bent his bulk double.

David took the first knot in the hand towel and pressed it against the
hulking coach's finger-stretched hole. He shoved. He shoved again. "Open up
your asshole and relax, boy, or this is going to be a lot rougher for you."

"Yes, sir," Barnett whined. He took a couple of deep, gulping breaths and
tried to relax his sphincter. David pushed again and the thick, terrycloth
knot was forced into the ballplayer's ass.

"Unnngh!" Coach Barnett grunted.

"Two more to go, buddy," David said with a sadistic twist in his voice.

"JESUS!" Barnett thought. "This prick is going to shove that entire fucking
towel up my ass. The goddamn bastard! My ass can't take that kind of
abuse." "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!"  Barnett groaned as he felt David trying to
shove the second, thick knot into his rectum.

"COME ON! Open up your ass you big stupid bastard! Open up that boy-loving
asshole. Pretend you're getting fucked by those horny jocks on your team!"
David barked as he shoved and pushed. The terrycloth cotton was scraping
the rim of Barnett's hole and he could feel it scrubbing the interior walls
of his ass. The hunky muscle stud's legs were quaking as he panted and
moaned and tried to relax as the punk freshman tortured his rear.

Suddenly, Barnett's eyes bugged wide open and his breath left him in a
single "WHOOOSH!" as he felt the second knot slide into his rear. Tears
were flowing now as he felt his ass clench and squeeze, pulling more of the
towel inside him. He was stuffed in a way he had never imagined
before. Nothing had ever felt like this -- not Fulsom's giant cock, not the
dildoes he used on himself as he pumped and moaned and fantasized in the
privacy of his bed, not the baseball bat which Coach Fulsom had used on him
during one memorable and particularly brutal session.  Barnett screamed and
moaned and panted and still David was shoving cotton up the stud coach's
wounded asshole.

One knot was left dangling below Coach Barnett's ass. The heavily muscled
stud was still bent over in the center of the room. Fulsom stared on in
disbelief. He had worked over Barnett's ass any number of times in the
past. The two men enjoyed hard, rough sex with one another and Fulsom
thought they had gotten pretty kinky during their encounters. But he had
never seen Barnett in a state like the one he was in now. The big, bottom
stud was moaning non-stop. Drool spilled from his mouth and his eyes had
glazed over. Fulsom knew that whatever Barnett was feeling -- pain or
pleasure or both -- he was feeling intensely. Fulsom also knew that he was
next in line for whatever his fuckbuddy was feeling.

David had both thumbs pressed against the final knot hanging from Barnett's
ass. He pushed and pushed, using all his muscle, and, with an audible *pop*
and a loud grunt from Barnett, the knot pressed inside the tight
rectum. The tiny pucker closed around the last knot, with several inches of
white cotton still dangling out of the hole so that Barnett looked like an
obscene Kleenex dispenser.

David swatted the big stud's ass and barked, "Go sit down!"

"Yes, sir," Coach Barnett whimpered and gingerly took a seat on the tile
bench.

"Now YOU!" David growled as he looked at Coach Fulsom and pointed to the
spot on the floor which Barnett had vacated. "Front and center. Bend over
and grab your ankles, fuckboy!"

Fulsom did as he was told; he was suddenly very afraid of the treatment he
felt certain was coming to him. Fulsom had always been top man with his
fuck partners. He had been topping Barnett for a year now, but before that
were a long line of marine recruits, fellow coaches, hot studs from the
bars and, yes, the occasional student jock. Fulsom's mind raced as he tried
to think of a way to avoid having his virgin ass violated, but knew it was
hopeless. David had promised that whatever Barnett had got, he was going to
get worse, and Fulsom suspected the little punk would be true to his word.

As Fulsom stood bent over, his sculpted ass spread wide, he saw David's
feet move into view before him. "Suck my cock, coach," the freshman
commanded.

"A blowjob? Hell, yes, I can give a blowjob!" Fulsom thought with relief as
he gulped the young man's meat into his throat. Fulsom was sliding up and
down on that boy-cock, sucking and slurping with gusto when he suddenly
felt a palm on his forehead and the dick was removed.  "That's enough,"
David said quietly as he moved behind the coach.

Fulsom felt the dreaded, knotted towel against his own anus and knew his
ass was going to be stuffed full of cotton, just as his buddy's had been.

"PLEASE!" Fulsom began begging, thoroughly humbled at the thought of what
was to come. "I can't take that towel, James. Honest! I'm not as stretched
out as Barnett. He gets fucked lots more than me! Please!"

"Well, coach. They say you always remember your first time. I think in your
case that's going to be particularly true. But don't worry, I got the towel
nice and wet, so it'll slide in a little easier for you," David said with a
chuckle. The freshman had a trick up his sleeve, though, that Coach Fulsom
wasn't expecting. On the side of the room, Barnett's eyes grew wide and the
young coach squirmed on the tiles as he watched and realized what was about
to happen.

David placed the first knot against the coach's asshole. Then he placed his
cock behind the knot.  He grabbed the coach's hips in both hands and shoved
forward with all his strength.

Two screams filled the steam room. Coach Fulsom screamed from pain. David
screamed from ecstasy and release. His young, steel hard cock shoved the
towel's first knot into the coach's virgin ass and continued to slide
in. David could feel the hot ass-walls and the rough terrycloth towel
wrapping around his cock. He had never felt anything so incredible.

Coach Fulsom wasn't yet ready to call the sensations tearing his ass apart
"incredible," but they were certainly intense. He was temporarily blinded
from the pain. He could see nothing but stars and flashes of color as he
groped for the floor in front of him and struggled not to lose his balance
as David's boy-cock pounded in and out of his ass, driving more of the
towel inside with each thrust.

"YEAH! You wanted swim-jock cock up your ass, you big fucker! Now you GOT
IT! Take it, you hot little boy-fucker! Yeah, now you've got some cock up
your ass, you're not such a fuckin' tough guy, are you? HUH?" David panted
and chanted as he fucked his coach.

"FUCK YOU!" Coach Fulsom barked, not ready to concede defeat yet.

"No, fuck YOU!" David yelled back, along with a particularly brutal thrust
forward which drove the second knot into his coach's butt.

"YEEEOOOOWWWW!" the coach screamed. "You lousy motherfucker! I'll get you
for this! I swear to god, you'll pay for this!"

"Now, now Coach," David said as he continued fucking. "Let's not forget all
those big gifts from my dad! You can't win this one, buddy, and you don't
want to lose your job in the midst of a big scandal, do you?"

"FUCK YOU!" the coach yelled. "OWWWW! OH! You stupid, fuckhead, punk! I
swear to god, you'll pay for this. Nobody fucks Carl Fulsom up the ass and
gets away with it!"

"Like you said, Coach -- your word against mine. And Coach Barnett's on my
side. Aren't you Barnett?" The dazed and confused baseball coach stared
blankly at David. "You'd go along with me if I told everyone how Coach
Fulsom, here, made a move on me in the steam room -- how he tried to rape
my virgin, freshman ass and the only thing that stopped him from succeeding
was you busting in at the last minute and saving me. You'd agree to that
version of events and save your own career, wouldn't you Coach Barnett?"

David and Fulsom both looked at Barnett. The young coach blushed red and
hung his head. He knew he was a pussy, that he was selling out his friend,
but he also knew the kid was right. If Fulsom was stupid enough not to keep
his mouth shut, Barnett would save his own ass before taking on a losing
fight.

Fulsom saw the look on his buddy's face and knew any hope of revenge was
gone. He screamed again. Partly from anguish at being so totally beaten by
this stupid freshman punk, and partly because David's dong had just shoved
the last knot inside his ass.

"YEAH! You're a beaten, pussy boy now, coach! Admit it! You're getting
raped by a freshman and there's nothing you can do, so sit back and enjoy
the ride! ... You got a nice tight ass, coach.  You ought to share it with
guys more often ... I bet you'd like to fuck this ass now and then,
wouldn't you Barnett? You'd like to be top dog, sometime, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, sir," Barnett answered. His reply got an angry-looking stare from his
fellow coach.

"BARNETT YOU PUSSY! You'll never get anywhere near my man-ass. I swear to
god, when we get out of this I'm gonna mop this fucking room with your
balls!" Fulsom continued to fume.  His ass was on fire with pain. He could
feel the terrycloth scraping back and forth in his guts. It burned more
than anything he could imagine, but so far he was able to survive. He
hadn't passed out. In the marines, Fulsom had learned a trick to minimize
pain in case he was captured and tortured. Fulsom wasn't sure if he had
been captured in the steam room, but he was sure as hell being tortured. He
sent his mind out of his body; he imagined himself lying on the beach in
the sun. With the thoughts, his body relaxed and his ass muscles
unclenched, allowing him to survive the rough ride.

Suddenly, David gripped the coach's hips tighter and started stroking
faster and faster. His cock expanded, feeling the rough knots of cotton
against his cock as he pumped in and out of the coach's tight
manhole. "OOOOH GOD! I'm gonna ..... gonna .....oh christ! .......
CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!" David screamed as his hot, white, teen spunk
exploded into Coach Fulsom's ass.

The coach remained silent. He gritted his teeth and accepted the warm,
sticky goo which filled his asshole. He felt totally used and degraded. He
just wanted to shower and forget this whole fucking night had ever
happened. Either that, or he wanted to beat the shit out of Barnett. He
wasn't sure.

"BARNETT! Get over here!" David ordered as he pulled his spent cock out of
Fulsom's ass.  "Turn around and stand behind Fulsom! Asshole to asshole!"
David instructed.

Barnett did as he was told. David knelt down and grabbed the ends of the
two towels sticking out of the two coaches' asses. He tied the ends
together. He then pulled each man's hands behind his back and, with another
towel, tied their wrists together so that the pair were joined with no easy
way of escape.

"All right. Two things before I go," David said. "First of all, I was never
here tonight. I never saw you. You never saw me. There is nothing for me to
report to the athletic director or to any of my friends. There is nothing
for you to get bent out of shape about. UNDERSTOOD?"

"Yes, SIR!" Barnett answered, relieved that he would still hang onto his
job.

"UNDERSTOOD, FULSOM?"

"Yes sir," the man answered, finally beaten.

"Good." David turned to leave.

"Sir?" It was Barnett questioning him.

"What, Coach?"

"What's the other thing?"

"Oh! The second thing is.....have fun getting yourselves unbound." David
winked, unlocked the door, and left the steam room.

				   *****

As he walked home, David thought about the encounter in the steam room.  He
replayed it over and over in his mind. He felt nothing. Despite his best
efforts, he couldn't summon up one feeling -- not relief for having finally
blown off some steam and having raped a couple of big he-men; not remorse
for having raped a couple of big he-men; not satisfaction from a hot sexual
encounter; not fear that he might face recrimination; and certainly not
acceptance for who he was and what he desired. The last emotion was the one
he wanted most ... and the one which most scared him. That emotion, though,
like all the others, eluded him.

He walked home in silence.

				   *****

Back in the steam room, Fulsom and Barnett grunted and groaned and sweated
and moaned as they wriggled around the floor, trying to pop the knotted
towels out of their asses. Barnett was the first to expel the packed
cotton. With his ass free, he was able to wriggle out of the wrist bindings
and help pull Fulsom's towel out.

Barnett expected Fulsom to start beating on him once he was released, but
the older coach just stood there, panting and tired. "How's my ass look,
Billy? Any permanent damage?"

"Well, you look stretched out, and that burn is going to be nasty for a few
days. But I don't think he ripped you."

"God!" Fulsom moaned. "I can't believe what happened in here." He dropped
onto a bench and, for a while, the two men just sat there in silence.

"Is it over, Carl?" Barnett asked, shattering the quiet.

"Yeah. I guess so. The kid says he won't tell. I think he meant it. And I'm
sure as hell not going to talk to anyone."

"No," Barnett said, and there was a small tear in his eye. "I mean, is it
over between me and you?"

Fulsom looked at the big lug and smiled. "No," he said quietly. "But we are
going to have to work on toughening you up! Man, who'd have thought such a
big fucker would crack down so easy under punishment!" he laughed and gave
Barnett a friendly punch on the arm.

That morning Barnett and Fulsom entered a new (and more kinky) phase in
their relationship. In the coming weeks, after the burn had healed, Barnett
finally DID get to fuck Fulsom up the ass ...  but NOT in the steam room.


Those wacky LDR boys go at it again in Chapter 7.