Date: Thu, 24 Apr 2014 17:36:54 +0000 (UTC)
From: fiveholepunch@comcast.net
Subject: JV Football Indoctrination

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JV Football Indoctrination

I played high school football for one of the winningest schools in our
Midwestern state. We almost always won our regional championship and
several times we won our state championship. Much was written about our
success. We were described as the most motivated team in the state on
several occasions and our cohesiveness as far as teamwork was concerned was
unsurpassed according to sports reporters. It was said that our winning
habits were established in our junior varsity program and they carried
through to our varsity team. It was said our coaches knew how to motivate
young men. Well, I'm here to tell you that's true.

Everybody in our area knew about our high school team's success and I heard
about it all through my years playing Pop Warner football. Everybody
dreamed of playing for the Rams one day. I was fortunate; I was one of
those boys who had the above-average athletic ability to make it, in my
case as a wide receiver. I was invited to try out for the team after
finishing eighth grade. I had heard some general rumors about a "secret"
training technique for a couple of years. I also heard that the JV
indoctrination was tough.

All incoming freshman prospects had to go through a two-week tryout that
was extremely strenuous. We did wind sprints, push-ups, position drills,
etc. in the hot summer sun most of the afternoon; after training the
coaches critiqued our work in an after practice meeting. It was expected
that all players would meet very high standards of behavior, including
hygiene. All players, even those trying out, had to shower after
practice. Now, one thing I noticed was how familiar the tenth grade JV
veterans were with one another and, it seemed, with us rookies. There were
all sorts of sexual comments in the locker room and in the showers
evaluating the rookies' "equipment." There were also lascivious comments
about various sexual acts that we rookies were going to have to submit to
in order to make the team. I wanted to make the team. I went along with
this hazing to prove that I could take it. I really didn't think that was
more than a psychological test to weed out those who weren't tough enough
to make the team.

After two weeks of tryouts the names of those that made the JV squad were
posted outside of the coach's office – I had made it, my name, Jonathan
Reynolds, was on the list! I couldn't wait to get practice on Monday to
begin training.

Monday first thing was the coach's meeting for the rookies. This was going
to be the "secret" training technique I'd heard so much about over the
years. Our coach told us what was expected of us in our training and
practice.

"Now you rookies have to understand discipline. You're going to be trained
up just like every other player that's come through the Ram's system. You
have to learn obedience and you have to do what you are told. Last year the
sophomores were in your position and they were taught the secret to Ram
football success by those who completed the program the year before. Now
these young men are going to teach you. You will learn from them or you
won't be a Ram. You will address them by their position and last name, they
have earned it. We have as part of our training program a system of
rewards. The top sophomore Player of the Day gets to choose one of you
rookies for individual instruction. If you're smart you will learn your
lessons and become a full-fledged Ram player. It is an honor to be chosen
and you should be proud that you've been deemed worthy of the individual
attention of an established Ram player. It is this sort of bonding, class
to class, that ensures the winning tradition of Ram football. Alright men,
let's hit the field."

I went out and gave it my all in full pads. At the end of practice I was a
dripping, sweaty mess. We gathered at the end of practice and the coaches
selected the sophomore Player of the Day – Clay Webster. Clay was a
linebacker; six feet tall and a muscular 170 pounds.

"Okay, Clay, who is your rookie choice for special instruction?" The coach
asked.

"I pick Jonathan Reynolds."

I couldn't believe it, he had picked me.

"Reynolds, where are you?"

"Here coach!"

"Follow Webster."

"Yes, sir!"

"Webster, Storage Room Two."

"Yes, coach."

"C'mon, rookie," the player of the day called to me.

"Yes, Linebacker Webster, Sir."

As I followed him into the locker room area I couldn't help the feeling of
pride at having been selected as the first to receive special training.

We wound our way past the utility room that housed the plumbing for the
showers and made our way to the very back of this section of our high
school.  Clay opened the door to Storage Room Two and motioned me inside.
We circled around stacks of wrestling mats piled high and ended as far back
as it was possible to go in the dimly lit storage area.  There was a little
area about ten feet square set aside with two chairs and next to them was a
small metal filing cabinet.

"Take off your pads and throw them on the chair over there," Clay directed.

I took off my jersey and pads and Clay did the same; he peeled his t-shirt
away from his sweaty torso and, after a moment's hesitation, I did the
same.

"Okay, Reynolds, here's the deal – the success of Ram's football is
based on three things, skill and effort, every other team has those more or
less, but the third thing the Ram's elite players have is a desire to
succeed that exceeds every other team.  That is what makes the difference
between the Ram's winning year after year and all the other losers."

"Yes, Linebacker Webster.  I have the desire.  I want to succeed," I
replied enthusiastically.

"That's good, but the key to the Ram's winning is our training.  Our secret
is a training program that focuses the player's greatest desire and fuses
it with the goal of fielding a winning team."

Linebacker Webster paused for a moment and then asked, "Are you ready to
make commitment to become an elite Ram player?"

"Yes, Linebacker Webster, I'm ready."

"I don't want your final answer yet, Reynolds, hear me out," Clay
explained, "The key to team play is total commitment, the willingness to do
whatever it takes, the discipline and obedience. Only a select few are
chosen for an elite position on the team. I chose you because I think you
have what it takes, the coaches do too. Now I'm going to ask you a question
and I want an honest answer – what's your greatest desire, Reynolds?"

"To be a Rams football player, Linebacker Webster!"

"Wrong, Reynolds!"

I was confused. I didn't know what to say.

"Your greatest desire, just like every other guy's in this school, is one
thing; that one thing is sex."

My jaw dropped a little. Clay smiled.

"That's true isn't it?" Clay asked.

I had to agree.

"Yes, Linebacker Webster."

"Damn right it is!" Clay affirmed vociferously. "You see, Reynolds, this is
the secret to the Ram's success. Our program fuses the greatest desire a
guy has, sex, with football. It's perfect. What guy doesn't want to get his
rocks off? We all do. What could be better than football practice? Football
practice with sex. Does that make sense to you, Reynolds?"

"Yes, Linebacker Webster."

"Good!" the half naked fifteen-year-old agreed, "Now, Reynolds, each
recruit is given the choice whether or not he wants to join the
elite. You're only going to be asked once and you can say no if you want
to, but if you want to move to the next level in Ram's football you have to
be all in. You have to have the desire. You have to have the
commitment. You have to prove it by your obedience. You have to do what is
asked of you, anything that is asked of you, to prove you're willing to be
a team player. So, Reynolds, I'm going to ask you if you're willing to make
that commitment, if you're willing to do anything to become an elite Ram
football player? Take a minute to think about it if you have to."

I really wanted to make the team. I really liked sex. But, I was
confused. Did Clay mean that guys on the football team would have sex with
other guys?

"Linebacker Webster," I asked hesitantly, "do you mean ... that guys have
sex with other guys?"

"Reynolds, this isn't queer stuff. This is training. This is guys having
fun with other guys. And, most importantly, it's about winning football,"
the sophomore explained.

It sounded reasonable to me.

"Well, Reynolds, are you in or out?"

I definitely wanted to be on the team.

"I'm in, Linebacker Webster!"

"That's what I wanted to hear! I knew you wanted to be on the team."

Linebacker Webster was fired up. I felt his enthusiasm. I couldn't wait.

"Okay, Reynolds, now we start training!"

I wondered what the first step was.

"Kneel down, Reynolds."

I did what I was told. I knelt down on the floor of Storage Room Two, still
in my cleats and uniform pants, naked from the waist up. Linebacker Webster
stepped up in front of me and started undoing the belt to his pants.

"Obedience and following directions without question are essential in
training to be a Rams football player. First, you're going suck my cock,
Reynolds. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Linebacker Webster, Sir."

I hadn't sucked another boy's penis since I turned twelve years old. Me and
Tommy Higgins used to do it in the boy's room at school and in the woods
after school when we were in the fifth grade. Neither of us could shoot
yet.

The Ram's Player of the Day peeled the grass-stained pants from his sweaty
hips, jerking and tugging them to mid thigh. A heady adolescent musk wafted
through the dank storage room.  I recognized it.  At some primal level it
was the smell of arousal and sex that I knew from my own fevered
masturbation. I felt a rush of heat; my cock began to harden in my jock.

Linebacker Webster lowered his athletic supporter with his two thumbs in a
sensuous slide.  Out sprung a half hard teenage rod, climbing to erection
above a plump scrotal sack, pubes darkened in their sweaty wetness.  When I
sucked Tommy Higgins we both had a boy's cock; short, stiff and hairless.
Clay Webster's wasn't a boy's.  It was a rigid, ramrod straight pole capped
by a purple rimmed helmet of flesh.

"Suck it, Reynolds."

I leaned in and took his stiff erection in my hand.  It was hot and wet. I
tilted it down as far as I could, which wasn't far, and put the purple pink
head in my mouth. It tasted tangy and very salty.  The fifteen year old
jock groaned with satisfaction.

"Uhngh ...  That's it Reynolds, suck it good."

I went up and down a little and sucked the knob, about what I did with
Tommy Higgins when I was eleven.  I didn't know much about giving head.

"Use your tongue, Reynolds," the sophomore ordered.

I licked back and forth under the tip of the older boy's prick and that
seemed to do the trick.

"Fuck yeah, Reynolds!"

I continued on with sucking, bobbing and licking, getting turned on by my
team mate's obvious arousal.  His excitement wasn't the only reason for my
springing a wicked boner – the smell of his sweaty crotch seemed to send
some sort of signal rushing from my nose, to my brain, and then down my
spine.

"Get it good and wet, Reynolds," I was instructed, "Get your spit all over
it."

I tried my best, but my mouth was a little dry from practice in the hot
sun.  It took nearly a minute to get the older boy's cock dripping with my
saliva.

"Okay, that's enough rookie.  Get up on your feet."

I got off my knees.  My boner bent painfully to one side in my athletic
supporter.  I was slightly embarrassed when Linebacker Webster stepped
aside and gave it a look.  I don't know why I was embarrassed, as he was
standing there with his pants down and a full blown hard on.

"Okay, Reynolds, now, unbuckle and slide your pants down," Clay directed.

I did what I was told. I quickly undid the belt buckle and slid my pants
down the mid thigh exposing my jock. My curving boner, I have a distinct
rightward curve, pressed painfully into the fabric-clad protective cup; its
head threatening to pop loose from the edge of the elasticized cotton. I
reached for my jockstrap.

"No, no, no little rookie. Leave that jockstrap right where it is. I want
you to fill your pouch with your come when I fuck you."

"Y-y-yes, Linebacker Webster," I answered in obedient compliance, not fully
comprehending what was said.

"Now turn around and go over and lean on those wrestling mats."

I shuffled over and put my hands on the spongy blue mats.  They were
stacked nearly three feet high and were the right height for what was to
come.

"Let's see if we can get these down more."

Linebacker Webster came up from behind and tugged my football pants lower,
but they got hung up because of the pads around my knees.

"That's as good as it's going to get," was the judgment of the older boy.

"Stick your ass up higher," I was instructed.

I heard Linebacker Webster spit on the fingers of his left hand and then he
proceeded to slide two or three up the sweaty crack of my butt.  I tensed
for a moment, both at the sensation and the bold forthrightness of the
older boy.  Linebacker Webster slid around feeling for my virgin
opening. As he found it, he forced the tips of a couple of his fingers in.
They went in fairly easily; my anus was pretty loose from the heat and
exertion of practice in the heat of the afternoon.

Clay pulled loose for a moment to spit on his fingers again.  This time he
stuck one, then two fingers in.  I tried not to cry out, but I whined when
he went past the second knuckle using double digits.

"Inhh ... Inhh ..."

Linebacker Webster pulled his fingers free.

"Okay, Reynolds, I am going to put my dick in now.  It will hurt at first,
but that will ease up in a minute or so."

"Yes, Sir."

I sensed my team mate step close. He spread my cheeks.  I felt his glans
slide to my sloppy rosebud.  Clay adjusted the angle of his cock to center
his rod. There was a building pressure and my ring began to yield.  The
head pushed in. There was a stinging pain all around the rim of my asshole.
I cried out.

"Ahh! ... Uhhnh! ... Unnh."

"Take it, Reynolds," Linebacker Webster urged with a distinct huskiness to
his voice, "Hang in there, you can do it."

Clay's cock was one of those that curved almost straight up and stood rigid
as an iron bar.  With almost no give, it entered at an angle that really
hurt. I tried to reposition my ass to ease the burning pain, but it made no
difference.

"Ohh! ... Please ... Innh! Innh!" I whined.

Linebacker Webster didn't stop, he inched his slobber-slick shaft in bit by
bit.  Despite the pain, the pressure of his rod in my rectum gave rise to a
new sensation - a building wave of fullness that rushed to my balls and
caused my cock to swell.  Gritting my teeth, I groaned with the steady the
intrusion. They were groans of lust.

"Nnhhh! ... Gnhh ... Ghh ..."

My anus spasmed reflexively from the entrance of my first cock; my thighs
ached with exhaustion from their workout earlier.  I alternately held my
breath then gasped irregularly as the dominant boy took my ass.  I panted
with lust, biting my lower lip as Clay worked the entire length of his rod
in to the hilt.

"You got it all, Reynolds," Linebacker Webster declared with a slight sense
of admiration, "Are you gonna be able to take it, Reynolds?"

"Yes, s-s-sir. I c-can take it," I managed to respond despite the pain.

"I know you can, Reynolds. That's why chose you, rook'."

Linebacker Webster didn't waste any time. He began to pump my ass. He
wasn't delicate.

"Innhh ... Innhh ... Innhh ..."

I couldn't help it, I moaned like a little boy as I got fucked. I tried to
think of something else besides the pain, but I couldn't ignore his rigid
tool intruding again and again. I felt the sophomore's rough pubes against
my naked rear when he pushed forward and his slick thighs slid against
mine.

"That's it, Reynolds. You can do it. Take it for the team."

"Ye–uhh ... Y-yes, Lineb-buh ... bu-acker Web-ster!"

The older boy fucked faster, turned on by my desperation. He wasn't the
only one. Despite the pain in my hole, my own cock was steel hard. It hurt,
wedged in my cup, but it was the hurt of rampant lust. I liked getting
fucked in my ass.

We being teenagers, it was obvious that we wouldn't be able to control our
animal appetites for very long. Linebacker Webster started to lose his
restraint.

"Take that hog! Take that hog deep."

"Yes... Unnggh!"

"Yes what, rookie?"

"Yes ... uhhh ... Line ... Linebacker Webst ... uhhn ... er."

The horny sophomore pounded my ass. My legs were so tired from practice; I
found it hard to push back against the thrusts of the older boy; my thighs
and calves burned at the effort.

My thighs and calves weren't the only things burning.  My stretched ring
ached fiercely.  The intensity of Clay's rigid rod pistoning my hot, creamy
anus sent sizzling electric jolts into my tightened sack that caused my
pubes to bristle under the wet straps of my jockstrap.  My engorged bent
cock was being crushed in the hard cup, the swollen glans pinched painfully
below the clinging waistband.

"Are ... uhhh ... Are you ... uh ... almost there, Reynolds?" Clay gasped
between thrusts.

"Yeah ... Uh ... Uhh ..."

"Okay, say it with me."

Say it with him?  What was he talking about?

"Rams ... Uhh ... Rams-uh ... Football!"

Linebacker Webster pumped my ass in time with the chant.

"Say it. Rams ..."

"Rams ...," I repeated.

"Rams ... Uhhh ... Football!"

He thrust harder.

"Rams Foot ... Unnh ... b-b-ball ..." I groaned out, near coming.

"Rams Football Rook'!!" the sophomore linebacker shouted.

"Uh ... Uhh ... Ra ... ahh ... mzz ... Foo ... Foot ... Ball!"

I tried to concentrate on what Linebacker Webster wanted me to say, but the
thick base of his rod pounding my hole had me ready to pass out. I couldn't
hold back anymore. I came.

"Uhhnnggh!"

My groan, the spasms of my anus, the hot scent of athletic sweat, all drove
Linebacker Webster over the top.

"Rams! Uhh! ... Rams!  Uh-Uhh-Uhhh ... Raaahhmmzzz!"

With the last loud triumphant call, Linebacker Webster gave a final shove,
jamming his rod deep in my ass.

"Unnggghh!  FuuckRook!"

I could feel the jerks of his shaft against my stretched ring as he pumped
the ropes of his hot load. I felt my shaft and glans, squeezed in the slime
of my own oozings, twinge as my jizz soaked into the cottony cup of my
jock.

We both panted and gasped for a full minute as we came down from our
orgasms. Then Linebacker Webster abruptly slid his softening shaft from my
ass. It made a noticeable splortch as it dropped free. I could feel some of
the older boy's come run down my inner thigh. I stood up and tried to clamp
my hole shut. It took two or three squeezes.

"Did you have a good workout today Reynolds?"

"Yes, Linebacker Webster."

"Good. Let's hit the showers rook'."

I became a member of the team. I had a few more special training sessions
with Linebacker Webster. I also had a few special training sessions with
some other members of the team. We bonded and we were motivated to have yet
another Rams JV championship winning season.

When I became a sophomore, I motivated a freshman rookie or three just like
I was motivated and just like Clay Webster and other elite members of the
JV football squad had been motivated for years.

I now know what that smell was in Storage Room Two. It wasn't just the
smell of sex, it was the smell of victory.


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