MarknNY
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About 10 more minutes of driving in my beat up truck and I'd be at the gymnasium. It was rare that Coach Bradley called these special weekend practice sessions, particularly at the last minute. When he did, it was usually as an extra clinic to help the weaker guys on the team. Maybe with the west coast regionals coming up he thought we needed some last minute mat work. Fine by me. Coach would probably have me assist like he always does. He liked using me as an example I've noticed. And why shouldn't he? I've played on the Tyson collegiate wrestling team for 3 years now, undefeated in my weight class. So I have to admit that I am a little cocky when it comes to my game.
The school's right around the corner. As I took one last look in the rear-view it see if any of my teammates were pulling in, I noticed my thick beard. Man I loved having it. Everyone else on the team looked up at me for being able to grow thicker facial fur than anyone else.I feel one of the reasons had been 'cause I LOOKED like a man. What can I say? Puberty had been good to me when I was a teenager, and now I had a full hairy chest and could grow a beard in a week. And yeah, I may be a bit heavy. . .but I'm there's muscle there as well. Considering my family history, I just accepted the little gut I had as a given. My love for beer hasn't helped. My friends love warning me that if I ever give up wrestling I'm gonna wind up looking like Bluto from the Popeye cartoons. . .
I pulled into the school lot right outside the gymnasium we used for practice. Noticed there wasn't hardly any cars in the lot. Didn't look like anyone from the team had showed up yet. Checked the watch. . .said 10 am. . .maybe coach meant 11?? Coach really came down hard on us if we were late. Seemed odd that on one was around. I saw the door was open to the gym, so I figured if I was the early one, I could just go in and stretch out a bit.
No one was around from what I could tell. Everything was quiet and the place echoed. I walked in and found a place at one end of the mat. I had already suited up in my jock and my singlet before I left the house. As I walked into the gymnasium, I could feel the singlet tight on my body. I always liked how it felt on me. I set my gear bag down, and slipped off my sweats. As I undid the drawstring, I could smell the leftover sweat smell from practice the previous day in my singlet. Damn I was gamey. One of the perils of having body fur is the constant battle of body odor. Other teammates hate sparring with me for that reason. Well, and 'cause I kick their asses almost every time. To me it's just comes with being a man. Smelling like one, that is. Whew! Coach liked giving me a hard time for what he called my "secret weapon". Ah well. When he gets here he'll obviously know I've already arrived. . .
One thing about coach Bradley. . .he was a STUD. Even though I think the guy was in his late forties, early fifties. . I couldn't quite tell. But he looked hot. He still wears the military flattop he had when he was in the service. And on his face was a trimmed salt and pepper beard that made his jaw look sharp and manly. The guy could be what I wanted my own dad to have been, IF I had ever got a chance to have met the guy. There was just something about Coach Bradley that I always admired. Hell, I'll admit I even occasionally think about the guy when I jack off in bed at night. Of course no one on the team knows that about me. . .that I like guys. I don't even think Coach knows. Don't know how he's react if he DID. Maybe I-
"Good! You're on time!" I heard being shout across the room. "Glad to see you made it, Jason". I got up from the mat. "So, today I'm gonna see what you're REALLY made of, cub." It was Coach's voice from across the room. I turned around, and there he stood . . .at the end of the mat. Holy Shit! I couldn't believe what I saw. He was in full wrestling gear! At first I had to do a double-take. . .I had never seen what Coach's body looked like as he always wore some sort of baggy workout clothing at the practices. But there he was. . .beefy and muscular in a tight silver and blue singlet with thick arms and and a huge set of quads. And of course, the flattop and the grey beard on his face. So what was up?? And where was everybody else??
"H-Hey Coach. So. . .um. . .," I guess I was still in shock by seeing how hot his body really was. . . "what's up for today?? Where is everyone?"
He slowly walked over to me on the mat. Shaking his head.
"No one else is coming, cub. Today is about you. . and me."
Huh?? What was this about? And what was up with calling me "cub"?
"Today is a whole different workout. It's about taking you and BREAKING you into what you should be. What I want you to be. We're gonna wrestle, cub. You and me. And I'm gonna take you down. . ."
"Uh sir. . .I don't get what. . ."
"Don't mouth off to me, cub! I've been taking a good hard look at you and your performance on my team. And things are gonna change."
"Er, well Sir if I can be honest with ya. . .I don't think there's anything wrong with how I wrestle. I think I'm the best you've got. I-"
"I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT HOW YOU WRESTLE. . ." he cut me off, "it's YOU, and that attitude that needs to be fixed. You're too cocky. You lack discipline. You need to be put in your place. Have someone else take charge of you for a while. A LONG while. . .and I'm the one that's gonna make it happen."
I still thought I could take him. . .or perhaps I was just nervous and thrown off guard. I knew Coach had ability. . .but I'd never seen it. And I guess I was about to. We started in the proper stance, just like it was an actual match. But things didn't last long after that. All I could hear was a sudden loud grunt coming from my opponent and "thud!". . .my body hit the mat harder and faster than I'd ever expect from an older guy. Damn he was moving fast! It was all I could do to maneuver my way out of his hold when he would counter it with another move. No matter how much I tried to get out of one of Coach's choke holds he was too quick. And far rougher than any opponent I had wrestled during a game! Sweat was pouring out of my skin and I could barely breathe. . ."what the FUCK, Coach!" I yelled. . .barely able to be heard through the weight of Coach's trunk which was now pressed against my face. He flipped me over, and suddenly had me in a half nelson hold. I could feel his free hand clamp over my mouth, with a strong smell of tobacco on his breath as he spoke into my ear, "I've had enough of your mouthing off to me, fucker!". Then he took his hand away a forced my forehead to the mat. . .and I still couldn't talk! What the hell. . ? There was. . .something over my mouth still. . .keeping me from being able to yell. . .
. . .tape! The fucker put athletic tape on my mouth. How the hell did he manage to. . ?
But as I was trying to figure out what was happening I could feel him forcing my arms behind me. MMMMMMMMMPH!! I tried to scream from the pain. . .but nothing was coming out. And then suddenly I heard the sound of more tape coming off a roll. . .around my wrists! Coach was fuckin' tying me up with tape! I tried to struggle but again he was too fast. He flipped me again so I was on my back this time. . and the agony of my body weight coming down on my tied hands caused my to wince in severe pain. I looked up, and Coach had my legs in the air. . .which he was now winding athletic tape around. . over and over and over. What the hell was he doing to me?? I was breathing hard, both out of exhaustion and out of being freaked out. He let go of my bound ankles, and slammed himself on top of my chest. MMMMMMMMPH!!! Again more pain. And the wind being knocked out of me. Now my face was locked in his legs. . .and I could smell the sweat and piss of his balls. Coach said nothing. . .but grabbed me by the hair and started to wrap more tape around my head, over my beard, securing my gag in place. I was fucked! " So you think you're a man, huh kid?? Think you can take a guy like me?? Think you're all hot stuff in here and can have an attitude with me?" He lifted my bound body up. I tried to struggle, and he gut punched me. I immediately keeled over in more pain. He then lifted me over his shoulder, and carried me into the locker room.
Nobody else was in there either. He took me into his office and sat me down, wrists and ankles still taped, into a chair. I would have tried to move and get out, but I was already too worn out. . and no telling what Coach would have done to me if I had tried. He then pulled some nylon rope from his desk, and proceeded to secure my body and legs to the chair. Over and over the cord was wound across my chest and waist, and then more was added around my quads and my calves. Even if I had the energy to move, I couldn't. A lot was going through my head. Fear above all else. And I was pissed. Coach stood behind me, grabbed part of the tape that was silencing me, and tore it off my face. YOW JESUS!! The pain was immense. . . particularly to my beard! Wouldn't doubt if part of it was stuck in the strips of tape he was now holding. . .
"So you got something to say there, cub?" he asked, hovering over my bound body. "What the fuck are you doing to me asshole??" I shouted. "and why are you calling me 'cub'??"
He looked down at me with an evil grin. . .like he had more plans for me. "Cause that's what you ARE, boy. It's what I've aspired to make you into all along. You're a hairy bear guy like myself. . .but in need of being dominated by an older Daddy to guide you. .take command of you. So, I'm hearby making you into a cub. . .MY cub. submitting to ME. . .and what I demand of you.
I couldn't believe what he was saying to me. Submit?? To HIM??? I don't think so!! "I aint bein' ANYONE'S cub, asshole! Not you. . .or anyone. . .fuck off Coach!!!
He reached through my legs and squeezed my balls tightly in his hand. "Aaaaaaarghhhh!!!" I screamed. And as I did he grabbed my head back and thrust something into my mouth. Something made of rubber. Like a racquetball or something. But it had straps on it as well and I could feel him buckling the thing around my head tightly as I was reeling from the pain in my groin. I tried to yell out the word "FUCKER!!!" but all that could come out of me was a bunch of muffled "ffffffff" sounds.
"Why don't you clamp down hard on that, cub? Bite into that ball all you want. It's a good hard ball. And you can cuss me out all you want now and I don't have to hear it". And as much as I wanted to let coach know what I really thought of him at that moment, all that came out was "mumfffff!" Damn what was he doing to me?? And then I smelled something . . .the pain eased in my balls and I looked in the mirror again. Coach was now smoking a cigar!
"And just for a visual reminder of where you stand with me. . ." He pulled out a pair of clippers from his gym bag, plugged them into the wall and proceeded to drag them with no guard across my head! "Gonna turn you into a fuckin' cueball, cub. Nice and smooth" Hairs trickled down my gagged face, getting caught in my eyes, my beard. Next he pulled out a can of shave foam and a Mach 3 razor. He was gonna shave me smooth! No fuckin way! I watched him puff on his cigar as he worked the cream on my fuzzy head. Then the razor was dragged repeatedly over me. I couldn't believe this. I was gonna be fuckin' BALD!
"Don't move. You think you're man enough to have this??" He rubbed on my beard. "Personally, I don't think you are. I don't think you've EARNED a beard yet." And then my beard was taken away. The clippers came back out and sheared my face fuzz off all along my jawline. "There. I'll leave you with that." All that was left when I looked in the mirror was a thick moustache extending beyond the corners of my mouth. I looked completely different. I didn't like it one bit. But there wasn't a damn thing I was able to do about it.
"And from now on cub" he proceeded, "if you come to practice with so much as on INCH of hair on your scalp or chin, I'm bringing you back and taking everything next time. Your stache, your brows. . . and your pubes. You understand?" I didn't respond. I was pissed. BOOM went his knees into my crotch. . ."Aaaargh!!" I cried "UNDERSTAND??" "Yeff fsir!!" "Now get yourself dressed cub." As I stumbled over to my gym bag, I looked at my face in the mirror. There were tape marks along my jawline as I fixated on my bare scalp and beefy stache, and my balls ached. I realized coach had broken me finally. Shamefully, I pulled on my sweats and thought about what had happened out there on the mat, and what later took place here in the locker room. This guy meant serious business. And it was all for me. He had me exactly where he wanted me from now on. And somehow, even though I felt humiliated about what he did to me. . .I also felt kinda excited at the same time. One thing was for sure. . .I was HIS now. My ass belonged to Coach. All of me did. And I had no choice in the matter.
"When people ask you about this new look of yours, cub. . . .just tell 'em you've had a serious change in your attitude." "Plan on keeping your Saturdays free from now on, cub. You'll be meeting me here." "Yes coach. . .SIR. Will there be anyone else from the team. .or anyone here?" "Nope. Just you and me cub." And then he turned and grinned, "For now." And as I watched him drive away I felt the stiff feeling in my cock. Somehow, whatever was in store for me with Coach from now on, I didn't mind.
The school's right around the corner. As I took one last look in the rear-view it see if any of my teammates were pulling in, I noticed my thick beard. Man I loved having it. Everyone else on the team looked up at me for being able to grow thicker facial fur than anyone else.I feel one of the reasons had been 'cause I LOOKED like a man. What can I say? Puberty had been good to me when I was a teenager, and now I had a full hairy chest and could grow a beard in a week. And yeah, I may be a bit heavy. . .but I'm there's muscle there as well. Considering my family history, I just accepted the little gut I had as a given. My love for beer hasn't helped. My friends love warning me that if I ever give up wrestling I'm gonna wind up looking like Bluto from the Popeye cartoons. . .
I pulled into the school lot right outside the gymnasium we used for practice. Noticed there wasn't hardly any cars in the lot. Didn't look like anyone from the team had showed up yet. Checked the watch. . .said 10 am. . .maybe coach meant 11?? Coach really came down hard on us if we were late. Seemed odd that on one was around. I saw the door was open to the gym, so I figured if I was the early one, I could just go in and stretch out a bit.
No one was around from what I could tell. Everything was quiet and the place echoed. I walked in and found a place at one end of the mat. I had already suited up in my jock and my singlet before I left the house. As I walked into the gymnasium, I could feel the singlet tight on my body. I always liked how it felt on me. I set my gear bag down, and slipped off my sweats. As I undid the drawstring, I could smell the leftover sweat smell from practice the previous day in my singlet. Damn I was gamey. One of the perils of having body fur is the constant battle of body odor. Other teammates hate sparring with me for that reason. Well, and 'cause I kick their asses almost every time. To me it's just comes with being a man. Smelling like one, that is. Whew! Coach liked giving me a hard time for what he called my "secret weapon". Ah well. When he gets here he'll obviously know I've already arrived. . .
One thing about coach Bradley. . .he was a STUD. Even though I think the guy was in his late forties, early fifties. . I couldn't quite tell. But he looked hot. He still wears the military flattop he had when he was in the service. And on his face was a trimmed salt and pepper beard that made his jaw look sharp and manly. The guy could be what I wanted my own dad to have been, IF I had ever got a chance to have met the guy. There was just something about Coach Bradley that I always admired. Hell, I'll admit I even occasionally think about the guy when I jack off in bed at night. Of course no one on the team knows that about me. . .that I like guys. I don't even think Coach knows. Don't know how he's react if he DID. Maybe I-
"Good! You're on time!" I heard being shout across the room. "Glad to see you made it, Jason". I got up from the mat. "So, today I'm gonna see what you're REALLY made of, cub." It was Coach's voice from across the room. I turned around, and there he stood . . .at the end of the mat. Holy Shit! I couldn't believe what I saw. He was in full wrestling gear! At first I had to do a double-take. . .I had never seen what Coach's body looked like as he always wore some sort of baggy workout clothing at the practices. But there he was. . .beefy and muscular in a tight silver and blue singlet with thick arms and and a huge set of quads. And of course, the flattop and the grey beard on his face. So what was up?? And where was everybody else??
"H-Hey Coach. So. . .um. . .," I guess I was still in shock by seeing how hot his body really was. . . "what's up for today?? Where is everyone?"
He slowly walked over to me on the mat. Shaking his head.
"No one else is coming, cub. Today is about you. . and me."
Huh?? What was this about? And what was up with calling me "cub"?
"Today is a whole different workout. It's about taking you and BREAKING you into what you should be. What I want you to be. We're gonna wrestle, cub. You and me. And I'm gonna take you down. . ."
"Uh sir. . .I don't get what. . ."
"Don't mouth off to me, cub! I've been taking a good hard look at you and your performance on my team. And things are gonna change."
"Er, well Sir if I can be honest with ya. . .I don't think there's anything wrong with how I wrestle. I think I'm the best you've got. I-"
"I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT HOW YOU WRESTLE. . ." he cut me off, "it's YOU, and that attitude that needs to be fixed. You're too cocky. You lack discipline. You need to be put in your place. Have someone else take charge of you for a while. A LONG while. . .and I'm the one that's gonna make it happen."
I still thought I could take him. . .or perhaps I was just nervous and thrown off guard. I knew Coach had ability. . .but I'd never seen it. And I guess I was about to. We started in the proper stance, just like it was an actual match. But things didn't last long after that. All I could hear was a sudden loud grunt coming from my opponent and "thud!". . .my body hit the mat harder and faster than I'd ever expect from an older guy. Damn he was moving fast! It was all I could do to maneuver my way out of his hold when he would counter it with another move. No matter how much I tried to get out of one of Coach's choke holds he was too quick. And far rougher than any opponent I had wrestled during a game! Sweat was pouring out of my skin and I could barely breathe. . ."what the FUCK, Coach!" I yelled. . .barely able to be heard through the weight of Coach's trunk which was now pressed against my face. He flipped me over, and suddenly had me in a half nelson hold. I could feel his free hand clamp over my mouth, with a strong smell of tobacco on his breath as he spoke into my ear, "I've had enough of your mouthing off to me, fucker!". Then he took his hand away a forced my forehead to the mat. . .and I still couldn't talk! What the hell. . ? There was. . .something over my mouth still. . .keeping me from being able to yell. . .
. . .tape! The fucker put athletic tape on my mouth. How the hell did he manage to. . ?
But as I was trying to figure out what was happening I could feel him forcing my arms behind me. MMMMMMMMMPH!! I tried to scream from the pain. . .but nothing was coming out. And then suddenly I heard the sound of more tape coming off a roll. . .around my wrists! Coach was fuckin' tying me up with tape! I tried to struggle but again he was too fast. He flipped me again so I was on my back this time. . and the agony of my body weight coming down on my tied hands caused my to wince in severe pain. I looked up, and Coach had my legs in the air. . .which he was now winding athletic tape around. . over and over and over. What the hell was he doing to me?? I was breathing hard, both out of exhaustion and out of being freaked out. He let go of my bound ankles, and slammed himself on top of my chest. MMMMMMMMPH!!! Again more pain. And the wind being knocked out of me. Now my face was locked in his legs. . .and I could smell the sweat and piss of his balls. Coach said nothing. . .but grabbed me by the hair and started to wrap more tape around my head, over my beard, securing my gag in place. I was fucked! " So you think you're a man, huh kid?? Think you can take a guy like me?? Think you're all hot stuff in here and can have an attitude with me?" He lifted my bound body up. I tried to struggle, and he gut punched me. I immediately keeled over in more pain. He then lifted me over his shoulder, and carried me into the locker room.
Nobody else was in there either. He took me into his office and sat me down, wrists and ankles still taped, into a chair. I would have tried to move and get out, but I was already too worn out. . and no telling what Coach would have done to me if I had tried. He then pulled some nylon rope from his desk, and proceeded to secure my body and legs to the chair. Over and over the cord was wound across my chest and waist, and then more was added around my quads and my calves. Even if I had the energy to move, I couldn't. A lot was going through my head. Fear above all else. And I was pissed. Coach stood behind me, grabbed part of the tape that was silencing me, and tore it off my face. YOW JESUS!! The pain was immense. . . particularly to my beard! Wouldn't doubt if part of it was stuck in the strips of tape he was now holding. . .
"So you got something to say there, cub?" he asked, hovering over my bound body. "What the fuck are you doing to me asshole??" I shouted. "and why are you calling me 'cub'??"
He looked down at me with an evil grin. . .like he had more plans for me. "Cause that's what you ARE, boy. It's what I've aspired to make you into all along. You're a hairy bear guy like myself. . .but in need of being dominated by an older Daddy to guide you. .take command of you. So, I'm hearby making you into a cub. . .MY cub. submitting to ME. . .and what I demand of you.
I couldn't believe what he was saying to me. Submit?? To HIM??? I don't think so!! "I aint bein' ANYONE'S cub, asshole! Not you. . .or anyone. . .fuck off Coach!!!
He reached through my legs and squeezed my balls tightly in his hand. "Aaaaaaarghhhh!!!" I screamed. And as I did he grabbed my head back and thrust something into my mouth. Something made of rubber. Like a racquetball or something. But it had straps on it as well and I could feel him buckling the thing around my head tightly as I was reeling from the pain in my groin. I tried to yell out the word "FUCKER!!!" but all that could come out of me was a bunch of muffled "ffffffff" sounds.
"Why don't you clamp down hard on that, cub? Bite into that ball all you want. It's a good hard ball. And you can cuss me out all you want now and I don't have to hear it". And as much as I wanted to let coach know what I really thought of him at that moment, all that came out was "mumfffff!" Damn what was he doing to me?? And then I smelled something . . .the pain eased in my balls and I looked in the mirror again. Coach was now smoking a cigar!
"And just for a visual reminder of where you stand with me. . ." He pulled out a pair of clippers from his gym bag, plugged them into the wall and proceeded to drag them with no guard across my head! "Gonna turn you into a fuckin' cueball, cub. Nice and smooth" Hairs trickled down my gagged face, getting caught in my eyes, my beard. Next he pulled out a can of shave foam and a Mach 3 razor. He was gonna shave me smooth! No fuckin way! I watched him puff on his cigar as he worked the cream on my fuzzy head. Then the razor was dragged repeatedly over me. I couldn't believe this. I was gonna be fuckin' BALD!
"Don't move. You think you're man enough to have this??" He rubbed on my beard. "Personally, I don't think you are. I don't think you've EARNED a beard yet." And then my beard was taken away. The clippers came back out and sheared my face fuzz off all along my jawline. "There. I'll leave you with that." All that was left when I looked in the mirror was a thick moustache extending beyond the corners of my mouth. I looked completely different. I didn't like it one bit. But there wasn't a damn thing I was able to do about it.
"And from now on cub" he proceeded, "if you come to practice with so much as on INCH of hair on your scalp or chin, I'm bringing you back and taking everything next time. Your stache, your brows. . . and your pubes. You understand?" I didn't respond. I was pissed. BOOM went his knees into my crotch. . ."Aaaargh!!" I cried "UNDERSTAND??" "Yeff fsir!!" "Now get yourself dressed cub." As I stumbled over to my gym bag, I looked at my face in the mirror. There were tape marks along my jawline as I fixated on my bare scalp and beefy stache, and my balls ached. I realized coach had broken me finally. Shamefully, I pulled on my sweats and thought about what had happened out there on the mat, and what later took place here in the locker room. This guy meant serious business. And it was all for me. He had me exactly where he wanted me from now on. And somehow, even though I felt humiliated about what he did to me. . .I also felt kinda excited at the same time. One thing was for sure. . .I was HIS now. My ass belonged to Coach. All of me did. And I had no choice in the matter.
"When people ask you about this new look of yours, cub. . . .just tell 'em you've had a serious change in your attitude." "Plan on keeping your Saturdays free from now on, cub. You'll be meeting me here." "Yes coach. . .SIR. Will there be anyone else from the team. .or anyone here?" "Nope. Just you and me cub." And then he turned and grinned, "For now." And as I watched him drive away I felt the stiff feeling in my cock. Somehow, whatever was in store for me with Coach from now on, I didn't mind.
