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. This story involves a lot of manipulation elements (straight to gay).

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

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Wrestling Team Gone Wild

Chapter 14: Contractual technicalities

I had to collect myself. My mom was waiting for me on the platform of the station. I was sweaty, shaking. I took some deep breaths.

The doors were about to close on me. I got off the train.

"Welcome home, sweetie." My mom said, hugging me.

"Hi, mom." I kissed her on the cheek.

"You're ok?"

I probably looked awful.

"I'm ok, mom. I'm just tired."

"You do look tired, Scott. Let's go, I have prepared a nice dinner and your dad is waiting for us. We can't wait to know everything about your sophomore year!"

I followed her but I was barely paying attention. The images of my big fat ass being jizzed on, those dicks surrounded me, my hole winking at them, were polluting my mind. I could not process the fact that probably hundreds of people got to watch that, jerk off to that. I had become a gay Pornstar!

I forced myself in participating in some small talk but my heart was not in it.

"And how is wrestling going?"

My parents did not really keep up with the championship or, generally, with the internet. They were of the older generation, getting their news through the TV and barely managing to surf online to pay their taxes. Neither of them had gone to college and we lived in a tiny home. Apart from my wrestling talent, I would not have been destined for a higher education myself.

I was glad that my parents were out of the loop; it meant that they had not seen any of the pictures or videos of the competition or of the naked calendar. At least, not yet.

"Wrestling is going very well. I'm actually the leader of my weight class, state wise." I replied, knowing it would make her happy.

"Wow, that's amazing, honey! So, you'll keep the scholarship, right?"

"Yes, mom."

"Such a great news! We always knew you would make it. Ranking first, in the entire state, that's something to celebrate! We have to tell your grandmother."

I had to talk to someone about the video. Maybe I could call Travis? Despite everything, maybe he would help me? It was possible that he was himself featured on the x-rated page and we could figure a way out of it together?

Probably not though, he had set some boundaries with the staff and photographer. He had never put himself in such a compromising way.

How could I have been so stupid to let them record me acting this way? I just did not realize how bad it looked. Not a single person would actually think that I was straight now. I could not imagine the reaction of my dad if he were to ever find these videos.

"Scotty, you're sure that you're ok? You look like you have caught a cold or something."

"I'm fine... I just really need a nap."

"You know a mother always can tell when something is wrong."

"It's ok, mom. Really."

Of course, I was lying to her. I had rarely felt that bad.

Who else could I call now that I did no longer have Travis? Weirdly, Damian was probably the one I was the closest to at this point, but the guy was releasing a sex-tape every couple of weeks. He probably would not have given a shit about being featured on an Onlyfans page. Hell, he certainly would have loved it!

Maybe I could call the Head Coach? He was the only one in a position to do something about this: firing Robert from the staff, forcing Francis to close off his page. Yes, that was the solution.

When we came back home, my dad was even more excited than my mom to hear about my wrestling results. I had to keep them company during dinner but I could barely eat anything. Despite their legitimate concerns, I assured my parent that I was fine, that I just needed to go to bed early.

Finally, I was able to isolate myself in my room to call Coach Ranson. I did not have much time; my worst fear was for my parents to overhear this conversation. I knew my mother was not one to shy away from listening at my door.

I was pacing around as I was waiting for the Coach to pick up the phone. It was nearly 10:30pm already... Maybe I should have at least waited for the next morning? I was already regretting bothering the Coach Ranson with my problems.

"Russel? What's up?" Grunted the Head Coach as if I was waking him up.

"Coach... I... I'm sorry to bother you but I needed to talk to you. I did not know who else to call."

"What's the matter, Scott? Are you all right?"

"I am ok... well... I mean, there is something which is troubling me."

Saying it out loud was making this whole thing real. I did not know how to go about it.

"What is it, boy? Just spill it out. You know I have your best interests in mind, I won't judge you, no matter what it is."

"Coach... There is a page. A porn page online where I'm featured."

"Well, looks like you have completely overcome your body insecurities, then." The Coach chuckled.

"No, no! I mean, yes, I have overcome my insecurities but this has nothing to do with that. I did not post this content! I do not own the page. I think it's Francis, the calendar's photographer, he's using pictures and videos of me from the shoot..."

I heard someone coming up the stairs. Shit. I had to be careful with what I would say now.

"The calendar's pictures? That's not pornography, Scott. The calendar has been acclaimed by the entire university. What's the matter if some of these pictures are posted online?"

"No... That's not that... I mean, not only that. Someone sent me a video on Instagram, it was not about the shooting. It was about what happened in the shower room that day."

"I'm not following."

Damn, I could tell that my mom was listening in the corridor. There was a shadow below the frame of the door. How could the Coach not remember the way I was sent to the shower room to help my teammates "get rid of" their hard-ons?

"I can't really go into much details right now but..."

"Russel. You are calling me at 10pm, in a middle of the holiday break to tell me you cannot really talk?"

Coach Ranson always was a master at making me feel dumb. He was right though. This whole thing was stupid.

"Sorry, Coach."

"Well... You clearly seem distraught. Do you think this could wait until we can talk in person?"

"No! It cannot wait for two weeks!"

"Ok, ok. Calm down. Look, I'm currently staying in my secondary home, taking some time off in the countryside. I believe this is not far away from your place. Maybe it will be easier if we meet and discuss whatever is bothering you. Although I don't fully get it, I want to be there for you, Scott."

"Thanks. It would be great if we could talk in person... I mean, I don't want to impose but really, I'm freaking out."

"Say no more. You're clearly going through something and your well-being has always been an upmost concern of mine."

"I appreciate that very much."

"Do you have a car you can take to come to my place, let's say next Tuesday? I bet it would be less than an hour drive."

"Sure. I can take my mom's car; she should not be working."

"But Scott, maybe do not tell her you are coming to see me, I would not want it to be misinterpreted in any way. I don't usually allow my boys to visit me at my place."

"Oh... of course, I..."

"Perfect then. This is settled. I'll text you the address and instructions. I have to go now."

He hung up the phone. Instructions, what a strange word to plan a meeting. This call had not solved much but at least, there was some sort of a plan. I could meet with the Coach, show him the page, and got it blocked.

My mom knocked at the door.

"You were on the phone, honey?"

As if she did not know already! Damn, she could be noisy.

"Yeah, I was with Travis. Mom, do you think I could take your car on Tuesday, we wanted to go train in a gym halfway from our respective places. You know, just to avoid slacking on wrestling completely during the holidays."

"Oh, that's why you were mentioning your Coach. Of course, honey. You're sure you don't want to take a complete break from wrestling, just for a couple of weeks?"

"I cannot if I want to stay on top of the game!"

She was just glad to see how dedicated I was. I had never been the best or the first at anything before. Both my parents had to see the scoreboard with my name on the top to believe it. But it was true, I was number one. This, at least, I could be proud of.

The following night, I decided that I should subscribe to the Onlyfans page to assess the damages. I could easily afford the 10$ subscription with the money I had earned for the shooting which was putting me in so much trouble now!

I waited for my parents to go to sleep and I created an account under a fake name. I was now "Wrestler01".

I cannot say that the page was worse than I expected, because I was picturing it to be very, very bad, but it was not better either.

The video that I had already seen partly, where all the guys were surrounding me in the locker-room and I was literally playing with my hole before receiving their loads, was probably the worst of them all. In the full version, you could clearly see my face. Against the floor tiles. Asking for more. Begging to get them to cum.

Besides that video, the accumulation of nearly a hundred more pictures and videos, even if they were less crude, made the thing almost unbearable to watch. On most of them, I was easily recognizable and in a submissive position.

At the start of the page in September, Francis and Robert had posted the pictures and behind the scene stuff taken from the roster's photo shoot. Already, the pictures were more revealing than the ones posted on the university website and the official Instagram page. Knowing how obscene those "official" pictures were, you can imagine how the additional content - which could not be posted on the mainstream social media - was looking...

Then, they had posted the matches. The infamous one against Strafer had been the most commented and liked, 246 likes in total. Edits had been made of my various states of erection from one match to another and slow motion videos of me cumming all over Strafer were getting tons of interactions from the users of the page.

Apparently, they wanted more of me.

This surely explained why I had been offered $3.000 to be featured in the calendar and the spot of "cover boy". This had nothing to do with my performances on the mat, they just wanted to please their perverted audience!

Hundreds of guys seemed to be following the Wrestling Team Gone Wild page, making no secret that they were not there for the sport. My dick and my ass were the main topic of conversation and reading their comments and critics about my abnormal proportions got me more and more mortified.

Starting from November, on top of the already available stuff (from competitions or from the roster), the page was featuring various exclusive pictures of the calendar and behind the scene stuff. The few clips from that afternoon in the locker-room (me twerking, getting on my knees, and others degrading positions) were presented as: "exclusive fun between the wrestlers! See what's really happening after the competition."

The "hidden camera" aspect of those videos had gotten the audience even hornier and nastier than before:

"You gotta love the way that fag is begging for those dicks! Feed them to him!"

"His back is covered in jizz, next time, cover his face!"

"Please, just fuck him raw, his pussy is only waiting for that."

"I exploded times and times watching this big fat ass being filled with alpha manly cum."

"I want a wrestler whore myself, when can the bitch visit? I'll take good care of her pussy."

The videos taken from the most recent competitions -- during which I had cummed on yet another opponent and got jizzed on by a black guy - were getting a bit too tamed or repetitive for the audience.

Their thirst for seeing me getting more and more submissive could not be quenched.

"As much as the public setting makes this so fucking hot, can we go a bit further next time? Please, actual blowjob and anal!"

"We want the fag to be used, whether he likes it or not."

"Stop the teasing! Post actual fuck scenes now!"

Someone, a bit more reasonable than the others, responded to some of the comments:

"Guys, those are actual wrestlers. The gay one, Scott, is in my college. We should just all thank him to have made the sport go so crazy! They are literally wrestling with hard-ons and nutting on each other during REAL competitions now! Stop complaining and just enjoy the show. And the other guys of the team, they just do it for the sport, they're straight. I heard they are disgusting to wrestle with a fag, they won't fuck him. At least, I don't think so."

I did not think so either.

I closed my computer, drenched. I had not cummed in days and I thought the holiday break would be the perfect opportunity to finally get some release, but I had lost all of my libido.

That was one thing for my teammates to get to see me naked, to hump me, to assume that I was gay, but all of these people now... All of these pictures and videos being online, it felt like it was forever. I could never go back. I would always be the fag of the Wolves Wrestling Team with the huge ass and the weird XXL white cock.

Given the circumstances, I had some difficulties getting into the Christmas spirit but I did my best to keep up the appearances for my parents. They were so proud of me. Everybody got scared when the wrestling team almost got shut down the year before and now, I was the family's success story.

Tuesday could not come soon enough and when it was finally time, I could not care less that it was starting to snow, I took my mom's car and drove away. I needed to share the incessant train of thoughts circling in my head with someone else, no matter who that person was.

As I was driving to his house, I started to question if Coach Ranson was actually the good choice to discuss this with. The man had always impressed me very much and I felt a bit stupid going to his place to talk about a freaking porn site. This was bound to get awkward. What if he were staying with family? What if he got really mad and confronted Robert and Francis? After the altercation with Alberto, this could really destroy the whole team.

I arrived at the address wondering what the hell I was doing. The house was very much isolated, looking like a small chalet near a forest. If I did not know the coach better, I could have thought it was the setting for a horror movie, a trap to get me killed. But I was there, so I just went in.

The Coach opened the door only wearing a silk bathrobe. That surprised me, it was only 5 pm and we had plan to meet. Had he forgotten?

"Oh yes, Scott. Welcome. I was just in the bath, relaxing. Hope you don't mind."

"Hello, Coach. No, of course."

His bathrobe was only loosely closed and most of his hairy chest was in display. I could swear that I could see his dick and balls, depending on how he was positioning himself. Of course, I did not spend much time looking.

"Come on in. Looks like a snow storm in coming." He said, looking at the grey sky. "In the living room." He pointed to the right after the entrance. "Please do take off your shoes, I don't want you to make a mess."

I obliged politely. At least, one of my fears did not manifest itself, the Coach was apparently alone. No noisy family members to be concerned about. Not a single other person needed to hear about the Onlyfans page.

"Just sit here." He pointed at a couch situated near a warm chimney. Compared to the freezing weather outside, it felt like I was entering a volcano.

Coach Ranson brought two beers and sat in an armchair, semi facing the couch.

"Since we're on break, I guess I can give that to you." He handed me one of the beers. "You won't denounce me to the authority for corrupting you, right?"

This was supposed to be a joke, I assumed, but he sounded very serious.

"Of course, not. Thanks for the beer, Coach."

He smiled.

"I guess I should ask you what bring you here."

I was really nervous. I sipped on my beer. I had played the conversation over and over in my head because I knew that I would be intimidated and I wanted to say the right things. The fact that the Coach was now spreading his legs and that he had not realized that his limp uncut dick was fully resting on his right thigh was not helping me to focus.

"Coach, I thought you should know that Robert de Portier and his photographer friend had been doing stuff behind our backs."

"Stuff?"

"They have been recording and broadcasting content, sharing the team's secrets, without our consent."

I had chosen my angle of approach wisely. The Coach spread his legs even wider. His meaty dick was dangling between his legs. Fuck, it was fat and hairy!

"Mmm. Really? Those are serious accusations, Scott. I am hoping you do not make those lightly."

"I have proof, Sir."

"And what kind of secrets did they share?"

"Well... I am not sure "secret" is the right word but..." I took a deep breath. "They have been sharing videos taken in the locker-room which should have remained between the Wolves. The have posted them on a porn website."

"Mmm. How so?"

"People can pay to have access to pictures and videos of me, and the rest of the team, naked and... doing stuff! The page is called Wrestling Team Gone Wild but I know that Robert and Francis are the ones running it."

The Coach did not seem phased.

"Wrestling Team Gone Wild. Funny. This does ring a bell. I think this was mentioned once or twice in an email. I'll have to check."

"Sir, we have to close the page. The content is getting leaked and soon, everybody is going to find out about it! Someone messaged me a video on Instagram."

"Let me go grab my computer." He stood up and could no longer ignore that his bath robe was now completely open. "Oh, sorry about that, Scott." His dick was now at my eyes level, I was staring for a few seconds and I had to remind myself to look up at the Head Coach's face.

"No... I... That's ok."

"Ok, then." He said without closing back his robe as he was leaving the warm living room. I was sweating. I should have dressed more lightly.

It was difficult to read the Coach's mind. He came back a few minutes later with his computer. He sat back in his armchair. He was still wearing the robe but had somehow closed it again. Somehow, because both his nipples were showing and I could still see his big balls.

"Let's see. Wrestling Team Gone Wild, you said."

"Yes, Coach."

"Yes, that's it. I found it."

He clicked on the page and accessed it right away.

"See, Coach. This is literally porn. You can see them... ejaculating on me."

"Forgive me for not being too shocked by this. I have been seeing your teammates jizzing on you for weeks now." He chuckled.

I did not say anything but crossed my arms and looked away. That was not funny.

"I do understand your point though. A line should be drawn between privacy and publicity. Some things are not meant to be shared online."

Finally, he was getting it.

"Exactly, Coach! This was never supposed to be shared!" (Or to happen for that matter!)

"No one can't deny that this is crude."

"Yes! This is too much, way too much. I mean, posting naked pictures from the calendar that's fine, but some of those stuff..."

"I totally hear you, Scott." He said, scrolling through the page. "However, regarding this particular video and, from what I can tell, the other content shared on this page, I am not sure that we can say they were not meant to be shared publicly, or at least, that you did not consent to it."