Defeated Jock Ch 01

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

"Stop it Taylor!" Pam slapped Taylor's face. Not hard enough to do anything but give him a little sting, only to register her supposed displeasure.

"Stop what?" Taylor moved his hand further up her skirt. They were on the patio of a bar in their college town, but in the darker corner that let Taylor take more liberties than he could elsewhere.

"Not here!" Pam got up and moved to the railing nearest the sidewalk.

Taylor rolled his eyes and gave a frustrated groan. It didn't matter. She'd be groaning under him later that night. He got up to follow her. He had to make nice so she would spread her legs for him later. "Come on baby, I'm just teasing." He stood behind her, putting his hand castely on her waist and nuzzled her ear. Taylor was of Asian descent and kept his hair long enough that it cascaded down the woman's breasts.

"Oh, Taylor." Pam liked her ears nuzzled.

"Taylor? That really you dude?" Taylor looked up, startled. He recognized that voice. He looked over the railing to see Kam, his old rival from high school. Taylor felt his heartbeat quicken, they had gone head-to-head for years. It had never been easy, and Taylor had pushed himself hard to beat the guy, and when he lost, his fury had barely been contained.

"Kam, what the fuck are you doing here?" Kam had gone to a university a couple states away two years ago, after they both graduated high school.

"I transferred to the Glegman Institute. Better Physics program." Kam gave a small smile, giving a quick, light hug to the girl on his arm. Taylor knew Kam graduated at the top of his class, something Taylor hadn't come close to. "You still at State?"

"Yeah, State." Taylor replied.

"Well, at least you have football to help you out." Simple words, but the way Kam said them carried all the meaning. Taylor was too stupid to make it without the special advantages given to team members. The chuckle Kam shared with the girl solidified the insult.

"Motherfucker!" Taylor jerked like he was going to jump over the rail.

Kam didn't flinch, but egged him on. "You going to come after me, you little-dicked dumbass?"

"Damn right!" This time Taylor actually did jump the railing, but Kam was already on the move, taunting him as he ran down the sidewalk, easily avoiding the people who rushed to get out of his way. Taylor ran after him, regretting he was wearing loafers. Pam liked to get him to dress up a bit when they went out, and it made it easier to get into her pants.

Kam took a corner, and another, as Taylor raced after him. A few more blocks and Taylor realized he could no longer see Kam in the darkness. The street lights were no help. The only person he saw was an old man walking his dog. Taylor cocked his head but couldn't hear footsteps either. Damn. Kam had gotten away.

Taylor hit his fist against a tree, giving out a yell half frustration, half pain. Taylor got himself under control and turned to head back to the bar. He was short a block off when his phone pinged.

[You lost!] Not a number Taylor had, but he was sure it was Kam.

[Where the fuck are you?] Taylor texted back, coming to a complete stop and almost making the woman behind him run into him.

[Nope, not telling :)]

[Goddam fucker! I'll find you]

[Dumb bastard. Tell you what. How about a rematch tomorrow? The track at your school 9am]

[You're going DOWN] There is no way Taylor would let him win again, plus he wouldn't be in loafers and slacks. Kam couldn't have gotten that much faster.

[What to lay a bet on it?] Kam was egging him on.

[Sure fucker!] Taylor dashed his response off before he even thought about it.

[$100]

[Deal] More than Taylor really wanted to risk, but he was sure he'd end up richer of the two.

Taylor didn't sleep well that night. Pam had complained a bit about Taylor being even less attentive to eating her out, and being rougher fucking her than usual. He didn't care. Let the bitch bitch at him. She was lucky to get him to screw her. She could take what she got.

He woke up early, glad to have dozed off for at least part of the night. Pam got up while he showered and still seemed mad at him. He was too distracted to care, put on his shorts, t shirt and laced up his best running shoes.

It didn't take him long to get to the track. Taylor stretched good, not wanting to be at anything but fully primed when they started. There were a few people already around using the track for exercise. He had gotten a really good stretch in when he saw Kam ambling up. "Ready loser?" Kam sneered at him.

"I'm going to rub your face in it bastard!" Taylor was ready. Kam would eat his dust.

"Riiiight. OK. One lap? First over the finish takes it. You can start us off." Kam seemed confident, putting himself in starting position, and even taking the second point, leaving the first to Taylor.

The enraged jock set himself to begin, getting into the runners crouch and lifting his ass. Kam lifted his as well.

"Go!" No sense counting down Taylor thought as he shot forward. Taylor moved fast, and was sure he was well ahead of Kam until he made it to the first turn, when he saw Kam out of the corner of his eye. Taylor poured on more speed, pulling ahead for a short time until Kam appeared next to him again. Fuck! Taylor thought Kam's been practicing. Taylor gritted his teeth and pushed harder.

Lengthening his strides, Taylor reached for everything he had, narrowly, widening his lead. The streak was barely his, and Kam closed the gap on the second turn, coming up to a be fully at his side. Was Kam holding back? The idea scared Taylor a bit, but Kam didn't seem as winded as he should be, as Taylor was.

Grim determination on his face, Taylor pushed more. But if fucking Kam wasn't pulling ahead. The finish was meters away. Kam was undeniably in front, there was enough space that he couldn't argue it was close. Taylor let out a growl as he followed Kam over the finish line.

Both coming to a stop and fighting for breath, Taylor briefly considered tackling Kam, but others had shown up around the track, and a fight would be a problem.

"I won, pencil-dick. Have you hit the track at all in the last two years?" Kam had a wicked grin on his face.

Taylor was too angry to respond. Angry at himself, but even angrier at Kam. He must have cheated somehow.

"That's $100". Kam held his hand out.

"I, I didn't bring any cash." Taylor spit out.

Kam dropped his hand. "I figured. I'll let you get it to me."

They stared at each other, muscles tense. "Double or nothing for benchpress tomorrow?" Kam had his wicked grin back.

"You're on you fucker." Taylor turned and began to storm off.

"Maybe your arms are in better shape then your spindly legs." Kam yelled after him, laughing.

Sunday dawned. Taylor had been beating himself up since he lost to Kam. He hadn't called Pam for a fuck, or anything else. He frustratedly moped around his room in the frathouse. He didn't even join the guys in heading out, but stayed in his room, looking up at the ceiling.

The gym wasn't crowded when Taylor got there. He did some warm ups and hit the bench to press out a few before Kam arrived.

Kam wasn't late, but appeared right on time, stupid superior grin on his face. Clapping his hands together he said "Ready to lose again, wimp?"

"I'll show you who's a wimp." Taylor pressed up on the bar holding a respectable weight. Automatically Kam when to spot him.

After racking back, Taylor got up, wiping the bench with a towel quickly. Rather than getting on the bench, Kam loaded another 50 pounds on, than got into position to press. Taylor got to spot and watched Kam place his hands and push up the bar. He lowered it to his chest, then executed a perfect press. Taylor helped guide it back, a small bit of worry at how easy it had seemed to Kam.

"Starting light, are we?" Taylor said as he briefly considered adding more weight, but decided to let Kam do that part. Taylor got into position and pushed up. The bar was heavy, Taylor strained to lift it from the rack, get it to his chest and press up. "Come on you wuss, that's nothing." Kam teased as he lightly aided the bar's return home.

Rapidly, Kam added another 50 pounds, and didn't show the strain Taylor felt with the last weight as he pressed out.

Inwardly nervous, Taylor got into position for his bench press. It was hard. It was about his max. "You weakling, you piece of shit. Straining at this? You can't lift worth crap." Kam said through his inferating smile.

Kam added another 50 pounds. Taylor was worried, Kam got into place, and even though he strained a bit, he certainly did a full bench press. "Fuck." Taylor said, letting his anger out.

"That's how a real man does it. Little boys like you, not a chance." Kam virtually jumped off the bench showing he wasn't put out too far.

With trepidation, he hoped didn't show, Taylor got on the bench. "You can kiss my ass." Taylor boasted, not really feeling the bravado he voiced.

Taylor placed and replaced his hands, getting a good grip. Kam appeared over him to spot, that smirk filling Taylor's vision. "Try real hard you little baby. Pretend you're a man."

Taylor tightened his grip on the bar and pushed it up. It was unbelievable how heavy it was. He had his arms holding it straight up, but was seriously worried about bringing it to his chest. Grim faced with determination, he began to lower the bar, Kam's hands hovering under it.

"Arrrgh!" Taylor grunted out, feeling the weight press down, he was losing control of it. "No, I can't!" Kam's hands flew to the bar and began to pull it up, returning it to the rack.

Taylor sat up, glancing around to see a few of the guys had turned to look at him. He looked at Kam, the grin had gotten bigger, and crueler. "That's double."

Taylor kicked himself internally, not believing he had lost again. "You'll get your money." His breath was still rough, but he wouldn't be seen as shirking on a bet. Losing $200 would hurt, and he wasn't exactly sure how he would manage it. Tossing his towel over his shoulder, Taylor left the gym, knowing Kam was grinning after him.

Taylor got a text during a class, but knew he couldn't look at it without getting yelled at the the professor. He had forgotten it until he was sitting down for his next class, so he pulled his phone out to check it. It was from Kam.

[Bet I can do more pull ups than you can, pussy]

[The fuck you can!] Taylor angrily texted back.

[So it's a bet. 3:30 at the gym?] Taylor was about to agree when the next text came in. [Loser has to shout that he's not a real man to the whole gym]. Taylor took a breath in, staring at the screen. That would be humiliating, guys he knew and didn't would be at the gym, especially at that time of the day, a lot of them. Not winning would be gut-wrenching. He's lost the last two bets, shaking his confidence. There was only one thing to do, he had to win. The money was gone, but getting Kam to debase himself in public would be more than payback.

[You're on!] Taylor texted back. He wouldn't lose, he'll show Kam. He had to.

After class Taylor headed to the cafeteria to grab lunch. He was irritated and nervous. He cut in line, bumping a nerd out of the way. He ignored the nerd's protests. He considered hooking up with Pam, but he'd have to make nice since he had pissed her off the last time they had fucked. Scrolling through this phone, texted a slut for a blow job. She wasn't too good looking, but she didn't need anything to put a cock in her face. Technically, he was cheating on Pam, since they were supposed to be in an exclusive relationship, but Taylor figured so long as she didn't know, it didn't count.

The slut had been going down for a while when she pulled her mouth off "Are you going to cum or what? My jaw is tired."

"Than you need to suck harder." Taylor shoved his dick back in her mouth and pushed her head down with one hand. She resisted a bit, but got back to work.

It was a little later when she pulled her head back. "I'm done. If you can't get it up for two minutes, I'm not going to keep going."

Taylor had lost most of his erection, but he tried to shove her back on his cock. "Get back where you belong."

She dodged, called him a pussy and headed out. Taylor looked at the door after she closed it. Damn, he couldn't even get off.

Taylor was still distracted a few hours later when he made it to the gym. He had been trying to psych himself up, but he couldn't shake a feeling of dread.

Kam was talking to a couple of guys beside the pull up rack when Taylor walked in. "There he is, we can get this going."

Kam continued. "These guys have agreed to keep score. Remember, loser shouts to the whole gym he's not a real man." A few more of the men scattered around, gravitating over in curiosity.

"You had better be ready to shout it loud." Taylor did his best to give a haughty look. "Get your ass ready."

"This ass?" Kam twisted his hips some. "Doesn't need to get ready. My ears on the other hand..." Kam grabbed a couple blocks of chalk, tossing one to Taylor.

Both men chalked up, and positioned themselves at bars.

One of the guys Kam had been talking to stepped forward. "OK guys, only regulation pull ups. All the way down, and chin over the bar. These guys" he indicated a couple of men, one on each side of him "will count. No arguments. Dropping or hanging more than 20 seconds means your out. Alright, on three. One, two, three. GO!"

Taylor easily jumped up to his bar, and did his first pull up. "One." He heard Kam's counter say before his followed with the same. He briefly considered speeding up, burned that Kam had finished the first before him, but a better though hit him. Let Kam rush and tire out first, better for him.

The pull ups and counts kept going, Taylor was feeling good. The first batch of pull ups are always the easiest. The numbers went through to the 20s before either of them started slowing enough to notice.

Taylor was feeling good, relatively at least. The counts slowed, and more men showed up to watch. They were still virtually neck and neck, Taylor felt some confidence flow through him. They were in the grind part. Hard to go on, but Taylor was determined not to drop first. As the number approached 30, there were cries of encouragement directed at both contestants.

Taylor was getting winded, he glanced over at Kam and some of his confidence evaporate when he was sure Kam wasn't as tapped out as he felt.

The assembled crowd gave little cheers at every one either Kam or Taylor did. Everyone was really getting into it. As they both passed 30 it was evident both were struggling. Taylor was straining, and was sure Kam was as well, and Taylor hoped Kam was in worse shape.

Taylor felt his hand slip, just a bit. Panic shot through him. He used a pull to adjust. The slips came more frequently then, and his speed was definitely suffering. Fortunately, Kam was going at a near pace to him. Two pull ups later Taylor was starting to panic. He wasn't sure how many more he had in him.

Taylor let out a grunt at the bottom of his pull-up, he realized he almost let go. He couldn't lose. He couldn't! He was in constant fear of slipping off the bar. He tried every trick he could think of to maintain his grip. A few more, Taylor was sure a one more was all he needed to win. But how many would that really be? Deep breaths, Kam had to drop soon. "15 seconds" the guy in front of him said. Fuck, he had 5 seconds to start his next pull up or get disqualified. He did it. He was taking longer breaks now, his counter kept him informed of the seconds and that's all he heard.

Then he heard a number. Not his number, Kam's. Kam was a full pull up ahead of him. Taylor started to feel the added pressure of being behind. He tried to wrestle with his mind that it was more important do to them to do them fast. But he was losing that argument with himself.

Another near slip. Taylor took a sharp intake of breath. The next pull up also resulted in a near slip off. Taylor couldn't concentrate on the count, Kam or anything else but holding on and doing the pull ups. Every pull up resulted in a near falling from the bar. Shifting exactly where his hands were didn't help. His muscles ached, his breath was coming in gasps. Just do it, just keep going echoed through his head. He blocked out everything else.

And slipped off the bar. Catching himself in a crouch. Taylor stared at the floor, eyes wide where no one could see them. Knowing what he had to do made him feel like his balls had been ripped off. His counter shouted out his final number. Kam's was still going, already past what he had done. Kam did three more pull ups before he dropped.

Kam was winded, and gripped the rack has he caught his breath. Taylor kept his eyes down, using the fact he was breathing deep to avoid looking anyone in the face.

"Loser has to shout out he's not a real man." The guy who had given them the rules announced to the gathered crowd. Damns and fucks escaped the men around, as did laughter. "Dude, get your breath and do it."

Taylor couldn't believe he had to do this. He was going to humiliate himself in front of everybody. His lungs were mostly under control, and there was no way he could hide that, all these guys knew how that went.

Taylor stood straight up, finally raising his eyes to look around. Most of the faces showed anticipation of wicked joy. Kam had crossed his arms over his chest and had a completely evil grin on his face.

"Son of a bitch." Taylor whispered looking at Kam. Kam suppressed a chuckle.

He had no choice. Everyone knew he lost, everyone knew what he had to do. He couldn't bluff his way out of this, too many men had been watching. It would be worse if he chickened out. The whole gym was silent, looking at him. Some had their phones out and recording.

Taking a deep breath Taylor shouted "I'm not a real man!"

So much laughter. Taylor's face went red, his gut felt like he had been hit by a kettle bell.

"What? I couldn't hear you? Could you guys?" Kam looked around with a faux-questioning face.

"Nope, not a word." One of the guys laughed.

"Me either." Another joined in.

Taylor scowled, this sucked. "Fine." Then even louder than before "I'm not a real man!" Everyone laughed harder than before, some of the guys bending over. Taylor felt totally emasculated. He stormed out, guys parting to get out of his way. It would be all over campus tomorrow. Hell, it would be out in minutes. It would haunt him forever.

Taylor headed for his room, steaming in anger as his feet virtually stomped the ground. He was almost there when his phone began to ping. He pulled it out and looked at it so automatically that he was looking at it before he remembered the videos he was sure had been posted.

[Dude!]

[Fuck dude what happened?!]

[What did I just see you do?]

[Damn]

[Fuckdamn]

It went on. Taylor's hand shook as he held his phone. Everyone knew. Everyone had seen it. He wouldn't be able to face anyone ever again. His balls crawled up into his body. Something spurred him to get going again, he had to make it to his room before someone came up to him. Taylor started running.

He managed to make it without anyone getting a chance to stop him. He was sure everyone he saw recognized him and had seen the video. Making it to his room, he tossed himself into his bed, digging his face into his pillows.

He seethed, the humiliation eating at his gut. How could this happen? How could he fail? How could he do that in front of all those people? And losing to Kam of all people. He had generally beat Kam in high school. Only losing a few contests that it didn't take him long to beat back. Three bets, three loses. And his defeat had been broadcast to the whole world. No one would ever see him as a man again. Pam would break up with him. He'd never get laid again.