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.
Please be aware that 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 25: Eddy
I lost my first match of the season.
It was bound to happen at some point but, as I was carefully following all instructions from Coach Ranson and the staff, I thought I would be able to avoid that.
Surely, I was delusional. No athlete can win every single one of their games for an entire year, but failing was simply not an option in my mind. I was not conditioned to fail.
I did fail though.
To be fair, that competition went very badly from the start.
Before we even hopped in the bus which would drive us there, I was feeling on edge. The Head Coach unlocked the metal cage and freed my abnormally long cock. I had played with my nipples in the shower that morning so I thought I would be able to control myself and my erection for a while... Turned out I was dead wrong!
When the cage was lifted from my elephant sized dick, damn it, the whole thing rose like a fucking bouncy castle! My shaft became hard in a matter of seconds, poking against Coach Ranson's face (the poor guy!) who was putting the cage's tiny key back in one of his pockets.
Instantly, I knew that any hope of self-control was pointless.
Maybe I should first clarify that I did go to a shower stall that morning but only to caress, squeeze and pinch my nipples in peace. The Coach was very clear about me not showering, or not cleaning myself at all, before the competitions. He wanted me to be as raw as possible.
I only went to the stall to hide myself from Victor and the other guys of the dorm while I was pleasuring myself.
This desire for privacy might seem a little strange since my roommate was beating his meat in my presence all the times, and often, he was literally stroking on me, but I thought that nipples play was a too gay and a too weird thing to do with someone else in the room.
Funny saying that when In the first hour of the morning, my roommate had made me suck his dick. He woke up with his usual morning wood and was stroking himself in his bed, lying naked above the covers.
He needed some release and I could always use some fresh cum to provide me with some energy and proteins, especially before a big competition. I deepthroated his cock and I swallowed most of his loads. It was already a daily occurrence at this point anyway.
Apparently, I did not catch it all in my mouth. There was some of Victor's cum left on my right cheek but even this, I did not wipe off. I knew that the Head Coach would appreciate it being there to throw my opponents off some more.
Anyway, I got out of the shower stall as dirty as I was getting in, but feeling a bit more relaxed after playing with my sensitive nipples. I foolishly thought it would help me gain some more self-control throughout the day...
Wishful thinking.
In theory, being hard on the mat during competitions was very much encouraged and cumming on my opponents was the only time where ejaculation was tolerated.
However, with that huge dick suddenly free after multiple weeks in the cage and pulsating, I felt like I had just gotten a new limb attached on my crotch, or that I was sharing my body with another living and breathing creature. It was quite disturbing.
I no longer knew how to live with that monstruous thing moving against my abs, rising to incredible length, begging to explode, and leaking tons of precum without barely any interruption.
I missed the cage!
Even the Coach seemed surprised by my dick's reaction. It was really on another level.
See, I am referring to my dick's reaction, as if that thing had a mind on its own! There was me, and then, there was "Elephant sized Dick".
I was on edge all the way towards the competition and every little bump in the bus (damn, the bumps in the roads!) made me release ounces of precum in my underwear. Damian and Eli had a good laugh every time it happened, the slime passing through my sweatpants, my bulge being quite obscene, forming a gigantic tent.
Personally, I was not in a mood to laugh.
If the previous weeks had been difficult and confusing, what I was experiencing at this stage was extending way beyond that. Without my cage on, it was like I had lost all control over my thoughts' process. Elephant Sized Dick was taking all of my mental space.
I even named it in my mind. Elephant Dick became E.D. which, after a while, became Eddy.
Things only got worse when we changed into our singlets in the locker-room and during the weigh-in.
I was leaking so much precum everywhere that Amir seriously asked me if I was not just pissing at that point. I swore to him that it was not piss (I had only pissed on myself one time!). Or rather, I mumbled an incoherent response. I did not have enough blood flow in my brain to have a normal conversation with anyone.
Eddy was taking everything from me and wanted all the attention. All I could do was focusing on not cumming right there, in the middle of the room, without even touching myself.
Travis was there, also preparing for the competition, and his presence threw me off even more. While he was changing, he looked at me with a stupid concerned look on his face as if I needed his help or something. He had betrayed me! I did not want to have anything to do with him.
I almost begged the Coach to cage me again during the competition, simply because I did not know how to deal with Eddy.
Coach Ranson said that I was not allowed to wear any jewellery on the mat and a chastity cage was considered as such. Fuck! I was all over the place and not at all in my normal "focused beast mode" before competing.
In this context, what was meant to happen, happened.
My first match was against a fierce Eagles' junior student. A black guy with thick black hair all over his body, - his armpits looked like a rain forest -, he was barely 20 years old but he could have been mistaken for a 30 years old man. He was still rather slim which explained why he was fighting within my weight class.
People were shouting "Cum Stick" in the crowd, I was still the audience's favourite.
My opponent was sporting a flaccid cock under his singlet, which was now a rare occurrence during competitions, (most athletes were hard throughout the competition), but he was not afraid of feeling me up.
Part of his grabbing and touching was quite classic wrestling moves -- let's be real, even before that crazy season, the sport had always been pretty "hands on" -, but part of it was also that he took every occasion to feel and even stroke my humongous cock.
The guy did not seem to give a single fuck about my singlet recking cum or that it presented huge stains of fresh precum. He wanted to make me lose my mind, to throw me off... and he was succeeding! To be fair, he did not have to do much.
See, the problem was that it was not just the two of us on the mat that day. We were three, Eddy was a full participant to the match and had his own ambitions: Cumming, as hard as he possibly could.
I was meant to wait for later in the competition to ejaculate, ideally during my last match. The strategy was to keep me in a high state of horniness and aggressiveness throughout the matches before the big finish.
But that time, less than one minute in the course of my first fight, after another stroke of my opponent, my dick exploded and I, or rather Eddy, released volleys after volleys of cum.
I felt the usual dizziness but for the first time in my life, I did not feel any pleasure from cumming. Eddy was spurting loads and loads of spunk and I hated it, I did not want to cum, I had not been authorized to do so by my Head Coach! The guilt was taking all of my brain space.
I was mad at me, mad at the world, but above all, mad at Eddy.
Yeap, I was becoming truly insane!
The other athlete kept on wrestling right in the middle of my orgasm. He had his fat black ass pushed against my face as I was experiencing spasms and filling my singlet with what felt like gallons of sperm.
I barely remember anything afterwards except from painfully standing up as my opponent was having his fist raised in the air by the referee.
He had one fair and square and I had lost my first match of the season.
The despair that I felt at that moment is merely impossible to describe. It was like my whole life had been ruined, that everything I had done thus far had been meaningless. Who was I if I was not the guy with the perfect victories' strike?
The Eagles' athlete who had beaten was not even that good. He had no chance to win the championship but he got me. That could only mean that I was a worthless piece of shit. Right? I had let Eddy ruin everything.
I went back to one of the locker-rooms with my mind filled with dark thoughts. Thankfully, the place was empty. I had no idea what to do. I punched a wall to release some pressure and only hurt myself in the process. Dumb move. I did not even feel like crying, I was numb.
Coach Ranson came to save me. I did not hear him coming but suddenly, like a super hero in a Marvel movie, he was right behind me.
"Look at me, Scott."
I turned around, ashamed and shaky.
"Coach, I... I'm sorry.... I was not in the game; it was like my dick had a mind of his own... I don't think the cage was a good idea, now, I'm totally..."
He slapped me hard across the face. That shut me up.
"This is no time for self-pity or whining, Scott. As usual, you are over-thinking it! That's why you cannot focus on the mat."
I nodded yes.
