Wresting Team Gone Wild

A new coach with rather unorthodox methods is appointed to bring the University's wresting team back to the top. Unfortunately for straight hunk Scott, the path to victory involves turning him into the team's bitch.

The story, names, and places are entirely fictional. All characters featured are above 18. Enjoy.

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Wrestling Team Gone Wild

Chapter 1: The new coach

My name is Scott. I have just started my sophomore year and I am, for the second year in a row, part of the university's wrestling team. We are called "the Wolves" and we are savage!

At least, that's what we say around here.

Reintegrating the team was a close call though, the university literally threatened to shut down the wrestling team all together after our (very) poor results last season.

Just before the beginning of the new semester, the board accepted to reinstate part of the fundings. A new coach has been recently appointed and most of the staff has been replaced. Good riddance, I thought, last season had been a total shit show.

We are roughly thirty athletes in the wrestling team, from freshman to senior year, competing in various classes according to our weights. Some guys dropped out after the chaotic last season but leaving the Wolves was never an option for me as my wrestling results in highschool were the only reason I got to attend university in the first place.

Wrestling is the only thing I have ever been good at, so basically, it was either this or working at McDonalds. Nothing against McDonalds but I have never been able to resist a big mac so, working there would not be very good for my shape.

The wrestling team would train each Tuesday and each Thursday between 6 and 9pm, and every Friday between 2 and 4pm, on weekends we would often have to go to competition.

Outside of the scheduled trainings, we were asked to keep a strict regime and fitness routine every day of the week. I cannot say that everyone followed through last year... I guess this was part of the problem and one of the reasons we finished dead last in the state championship.

My roommate is also part of the team which makes it easier to stick to a routine.

Travis is a very cool guy. Both his parents are Korean, but he is taller than most Asian guys I know and he is very lean. Not the typical wrestling type, still, he is super quick and smart with his moves. Quite unexpectedly given his body type and despite being a freshman, Travis became one of the best members of the team last season but the coach often overlooked him.

The poor organization of the whole team disqualified everyone from a key tournament in April anyway, so Travis, just like me, did not stand a chance to shine.

To start off the new semester, we all gathered in the gymnasium, waiting anxiously to meet the new coach. We were catching up on our respective summer holidays with Travis when five men came from the locker-room and entered the gymnasium.

Although most of these men were complete strangers to me, I could quickly tell who the head Coach would be. He was walking in front of the others and was intimidating right away. He had a furnished grey beard, a cap was hiding his eyes, he was wearing a very loose tank top which revealed the entirety of his strong and hairy muscular chest - his big nipples were fully visible -, and a tiny blue short which showcased his huge thighs, and to be completely honest, his obvious bulge.

That man was a beast.

"To the freshmen of the team, I say, I'm Coach Ranson and it is a pleasure to meet you." He spoke loudly as he stood before us. "To the rest of you, I say, what the hell was last season about!?"

The freshmen smiled faintly; one senior giggled. Travis and I just looked at the gymnasium floor as if there were something fascinating to observe underneath our sneakers.

"I have asked a question young men! I am expecting an answer. You! Tell me what happened last season?"

Thankfully, the new coach was not talking to me, but to the cocky senior who had just laughed. His name was Damian Feytons.

"Well... The coach that we had last season was a complete joke so, I guess this explains..."

Coach Ranson quickly walked up to the senior guy. He only stopped a few inches from his face. I thought he was about to punch him, and then, he was so close that it almost looked like he was about to kiss Damian.

That was fucking weird.

If it were me, I would definitely have taken a step back but the senior did not budge.

"You don't think that YOU were a joke?" Yelled the coach, two inches away from the athlete's face.

"I... No coach... I don't think so, Coach."

"Should I understand that you do not take any responsibility in the poorest and most shameful results this university has never seen in any sport whatsoever, in its 200 years history?"

Ouch, that hurt.

Damian did not say any other word. He did no longer smile or giggle. I must admit, it was a bit satisfying to see this arrogant prick being put back in his place.

The head Coach returned to his staff with a heavy sigh.

After this incident, he delivered his introduction speech in a complete silence. It felt like we were in a church.

"You have seriously messed up last year. The staff has been reduced. The funds have been slashed in half. And the university has been covered with ridicule. Let me be very clear about one thing: I am not one to get ridiculed."

He marked a pause. Even the rest of the staff seemed nervous. How could a man wearing such a tiny nylon short could be that intimidating?

"This is your opportunity to redeem yourself. I won't let you down. But believe me, you better get to work! We have to start from scratch, we need to review everything, everyone! You have been selected, fine, but never forget that I can kick any of you out at any given moment! I've been sent here to create a winning team and this is exactly what I intend to do. If you don't make the cut, I'll find better athletes."

He walked among us for the next part, scanning our bodies with his eyes, sometimes even grabbing our shoulders or chest to feel our muscles.

"You will train harder, you will be more focused, more committed, and you will fight every match as if it were a matter of life or death. Because it will be! If you lose, I'll personally make sure that your life becomes a living hell."

Travis looked at me, we were both stunt.

"On top of that, you will make sure to bring pride and money to this school again. And yes, I did say money! You have made this university lose too much time and financial investments on this team. We need tickets to be bought at every competition, we need supporters to donate for the Wolves, we need families to buy stupid cupcakes and calendars! Is that clear?"

Everybody, slightly terrified, mumbled a yes.

"I have asked a question. IS THAT CLEAR?"

"YES." This time, everyone shouted.

"When you addressed to me, you say: Yes, Coach or No, Coach."

"YES, COACH."

Did we all just join the army?

Finally, Coach Ranson seemed satisfied. He spat on the gym floor while scratching his balls through the fabric of his fitness shorts.

I don't know how to say this without sounding gay, I'm definitely straight, but the head Coach was the perfect representation of the "Alpha Male". There was something mesmerizing in the way he was carrying himself. I could never see myself disrespecting him.

"Now, before running some medical checks and handing you your gears, I want you to meet the rest of the staff. This is doctor Leo Peterson; he will be our physiotherapist."

Doctor Peterson, a Caucasian man in his thirties, moved forward and nodded politely. He was wearing a suit with a thin black tie. He smiled lightly but did not say a word.

"Doctor Peterson will work your body so you can achieve top performance but he will also keep precise track of your evolution. His help and advice on nutrition, healthy habits, trainings methods, or on boosting testosterones will be precious for the team."

Peterson looked more like a business man than a fitness physiotherapist but he seemed well built under his white shirt. I wondered what the Coach meant by advice on "boosting testosterones". Would we be taking some proteins? Travis and I were already boosting ourselves with various shakers each morning.

The introduction of the staff continued.

"This is coach Alberto; he will work with the 165 lbs+ weight classes."

Alberto was an older Latino guy with a grey moustache. He was the only survivor from last season's staff but I barely ever worked out with him. He was mostly training the bigger guys.

"Thank you Coach Ranson, I am very glad that a man of your talent has joined our ranks. Guys, this year is not only about erasing last year poor results but it is about putting your name in the history books! We are all counting on you."

Alberto did seem more enthusiastic than he was last season. This was a good sign.

"Thanks Alberto. And this is Coach Daniel."

A younger guy, not even 25 I bet, moved forward. He was smiling largely.

"Daniel will be my coach assistant and work with the 125 to 165 lbs classes."

Explained Coach Ranson.

Daniel was very well built and was sporting a blue short similar to the head coach but he combined it with a more fitting white tank top. His biceps, pecs and thighs were all quite impressive. He would have fit in perfectly in a bodybuilding competition.

"Thank you, Coach Ranson. I am eager to work with you all and making sure you that each of you reach their maximum potential."

"And finally, this is Robert de Portier, he will take care of the administrative and financial side of things, and also of the communication. Robert will be a fantastic asset as he has already come up with tons of ideas to publicize the team and make some money out of our good work."

The last man, the least athletic of them, moved forward and cleared his throat. He was wearing a fancy navy-blue suit and as soon as he started talking, I knew that he was gay. Not that I care, it was just very noticeable.

"My dear young athletes. It is an immense pleasure to meet you all. I can see already that we have been blessed with some beautiful raw material to work with. Of course, now the material looks more like fresh meat than refined diamond, although I am certain we'll manage to get something good out of you!"

He laughed at his own joke; some guys faked a smile. I was not too sure how I felt being referred to as fresh meat but Mister de Portier kept on going.

"I must say, I am totally baffled by the way communication was handled last year. The fact that young fit guys such as yourselves cannot generate any money is a non-sense! There is so much to do and so much to repair, but we will get there. And the wolf! Awhoooo!" He started howling. "Wild! Savage! What a mascot! What an emblem! What opportunities it offers..."

Robert de Portier seemed to get lost in his train of thoughts. He was cut off by Coach Ranson.

"Thank you, Robert, that's the spirit! Awhooooo!" The head Coach howled as well.

This could have been comical but everyone was too impressed by the new Coach to laugh or to say anything.

"Robert has already managed a small miracle for us. As you may know, the majority of our sponsors left us last year and the old singlets became unusable as they were marked with their brands. However, our dear Robert has found a way to get brand new singlets for the whole team! Coach Daniel, can you bring the scale and the singlets please? Boys, we will measure your weight, assign you to a class and hand you your singlets now."

Daniel hurried in the locker room, he came back with a scale in one arm and a basket in the other. His biceps were flexing and his veins started to show. That guy was definitely strong. He put the scale right in front of the head Coach.

"Let's start with the weigh in then. One after the other, you will get on the scale and be assigned to a class. This will be your weight class for the entire season. We will use this opportunity for Doctor Peterson to inspect your body while Daniel hands you the appropriate singlet. Be careful with them, we have just enough gears for all of you folks. We'll start with the seniors."

Coach Ranson checked a list of names on a piece of paper handed by Alberto, he called: "Cooper, Harry."

A buff 22 years old man walked towards the coach. I had known him to be very confident but Harry did not seem so at ease now, presenting himself before the staff.

"Go on then." Encouraged the Coach.

Harry took off his sneakers and stepped on the scale. Coach Ranson busted out laughing.

"We also have to teach you how to do a weigh in? Take off your damn clothes, Cooper!"

Harry gave a quick look at his buddies while his ears were becoming red.

He lifted up his grey t-shirt over his blond hair. He had a very muscular body and was one of the fittest guys of the group. He was quite tall too. He then took off his jeans and his socks. Soon, he was only wearing white Calvin Klein boxers with a red strap band.

I was not too sure of the underwear I had chosen to put on that day; I did not expect to have to strip in front of the entire wresting team and staff. Poor Harry going first while everyone was still dressed and watching.

I could see the communication guy, Robert de Portier, staring at the senior, fixating more particularly on his bulge. Doctor Peterson was also taking a closer look and was taking some notes on a pad.

Harry stepped again on the scale but Coach Ranson pushed him away, his hand pressed against his bare chest.

"I want to know your weight. I don't want to know your weight and the weight of your underwear, Cooper."

"What do you mean, Coach?"

As you may have figured, Harry was not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Coach Ranson sighed. He talked to his staff: "I guess this is going to be even harder than I thought." And then to Cooper: "Take the damn underwear off, boy!"

"Here? In the middle of the gym?"

Nude weigh-ins were not common practice. We would only go through them if there were an issue with our weight, and in such cases, those would be conducted mostly in private and our genitals would be hidden with a towel.

Coach Ranson moved aside. At first, I thought that he had given up on his idea but I quickly realized I was dead wrong. Instead, the head Coach grabbed Harry's Calvin Klein from behind and pulled them off.

Harry Cooper had just been pantsed by one of our teachers! I could not believe it.

"Jesus! We are all adult men here, and this is a weigh-in!" Coach Ranson barked, while Harry was now butt naked in front of all of us.

The student athlete was taken aback for a split second. He mumbled something unintelligible from where I stood, but then, he just took his underwear off completely and went back on the scale.

At this point, he did not even attempt to cover his dick with his hand, he just shrugged his shoulders.

I guess that was one way to deal with the situation.

Robert de Portier was living for this and doctor Peterson got even closer to his new patient. This was a bit awkward for me, our teammate was stark naked in front of us, his big butt in plain sight, right in the middle of the gymnasium.

"212 lbs." Announced the doctor.

"Nice specimen." Satisfied, the Coach grabbed Harry's large shoulders, then he shouted: "Gardener, Eli. Come here while Cooper is getting examined by the doc."

Harry stepped aside and, in front of the little crowd we were forming, the doctor started to feel and palpate him. We all looked at each other, we have never done things like this before, but again, last year was such a mess, we did not know what was normal or not.

As Eli, a tall black man, was getting naked and stepping up on the scale -- Eli got rid of his red boxer briefs right away -, the doctor was literally feeling Harry Cooper's balls. Apparently, he was checking for lumps. I could not stop myself from looking. Harry had quite hairy balls for a blond guy. Damn, I would die of embarrassment in his place...

"Dude, they should do that in a doctor room, no?" whispered Travis, sharing my concerns.

"Yeah... I don't want to have my balls grabbed in the middle of the gym... Maybe someone will say something." I replied, getting really nervous.

No one said anything though.

Eli did not seem to mind, better, he even enjoyed showing off! The seniors were generally more confident and at ease with their bodies. Eli exposed his big flaccid black dick for the whole team to see without a single care, smiling the whole time.

While Eli was admitted to the 197 lbs class, Harry Cooper was finally handed his singlet by Coach Daniel. He struggled to put it on, stretching on the lycra fabric. I noticed that he did not put his underwear back on first. Last year, we were wearing boxer briefs or jockstraps underneath our uniform.

The brand-new singlet was mostly white, with only a few blue spots on the side and a wolf face right above the abs. Under a certain light, I realized it was almost translucid, Harry's abs were shining through the fabric, his genitals were quite visible too.

Eli followed. After being thoroughly felt by doctor Peterson, he put his singlet on, going commando as well. The uniform seemed particularly tight on his skin. It was way more revealing than our previous singlet. The fabric on the new uniform started lower on the chest, exposing almost entirely both nipples, it also stopped higher on the thighs.

On Eli, the whole look was quite obscene, his black dick fully compressed against the white fabric looked like it was hard. We could literally see his piss slit. Was this even compliant with the state championship rules and dress code?

Again, everybody seemed to think this was normal.

One after the other, the guys complied with the weigh-in, the quick medical exam from the doctor and tried out their tight singlets. Some went through the process with more ease than others.

The last senior to go, Damian Feytons, was known to be quite the exhibitionist. Not only everyone had seen his dick in the locker-room a million times but he probably had sex with more than 200 college girls during his three years at the university. Several of his sextapes had even leaked online.

Certainly, he had nothing to be ashamed of, he was the second hungest man of the team. He was also the fittest of us all. Broad shoulders. Huge pecs. A giant in every way.

"218 lbs of fresh muscle" stated the doctor after Feytons had stepped on the scale, making no effort at all to hide his 5.5 inches flaccid uncut cock between his leg. He even turned around so everyone could have a good view.

"Well, looks like we have found our team star athlete!" Robert de Portier shouted, seemingly very proud of Damian's physique.

Galvanized by these words, Damian moved away from the scale and started jokingly flexing for the staff. He took professional bodybuilder poses in the nude, some of the other athletes started to cheer him up and he even kissed his biceps.

We were used to this kind of narcissist shows in the locker room but in front of the coaches, even for Damian, this was a whole new level.

After playing with his pecs, I could swear that Damian was getting hard while the doctor was feeling him up, although his soft dick was already so large that it was hard to tell.

Things got even lewder when the new "star athlete" bent over for the doctor to check him up and literally exposed his open asshole for everyone to see. In one of his sex videos which had leaked, we could see two girls rimming his asshole so this was nothing new... Still, I felt this was completely inappropriate. Two of the freshmen were looking at the ceiling to avoid staring directly at their mate's dick and ass.

The more the other members of the team seemed to get playful with the process, teasing each other and laughing it off, the more I was getting nervous.