The Coach

Rachel's eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and sincerity. "No, it isn't," she conceded, the truth slipping from her lips.

The coach's lips curved into a thoughtful smile. "And is that important to you?" he inquired, his gaze unyielding but gentle.

Rachel's gaze shifted from Coach Stevens to Alex, a flicker of apprehension dancing in her eyes. She took a moment before responding, her voice measured and composed. "Very," she admitted, her admission hanging in the air. "I need a big, thick cock to fully satisfy me."

Alex's expression shifted from surprise to a deep sense of disappointment, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions that had been stirred by Rachel's candid words. He had thought he understood her well, but this glimpse into her desires unveiled a layer he hadn't anticipated.

Rachel, on the other hand, was like a moth drawn to a flame, her focus now fully absorbed by Coach Stevens' cock. There was an undeniable intensity to the air--the kind that hangs heavy with unspoken implications and the thrill of uncharted territories.

Rachel parted her lips invitingly and the coach accepted her invitation, sliding his fully erect cock into her mouth and not stopping until he was deep in her throat, and she was able to tease his balls with her extended tongue.

As Rachel poured her energy into deep throating the coach's cock, her eyes watered, and her throat bulged from the exertion. Despite the strain, she maintained respectful eye contact, seeking his approval and validation, much like an obedient puppy yearning for praise.

The coach was impressed by her capacity and determination, but she had specifically demanded his brutality, so he grabbed her head and refused to let her release his cock, forcing her to sustain the choking deep throating for a few moments longer. Though it required great effort, Rachel persevered, determined to meet the coach's expectations.

Rachel, struggling to breath, pulled away, releasing the coach's mucus covered cock. She took a deep breath, coughing several times from the exertion. In response, the coach slapped her face sharply and made clear that he would determine when she could release his cock.

Again, the coach forced his cock deep into Rachel's throat, repeating the slap each time she had the impertinence to need to breath.

As the rigorous repetitions continued, tears began to roll down Rachel's face, smearing her mascara. The physical and emotional strain took its toll, yet she remained steadfast, driven by the desire to please the coach and demonstrate her unwavering dedication.

Turning towards Alex, the coach asked, "Alex, aren't you proud of your girlfriend? Because you should be."

Alex's shock was palpable. The unexpected question caught him off guard, leaving him unable to form a coherent response. Appalled to even be asked such a question in these circumstances, he felt a mix of emotions swirling within him. After a tense pause, he finally managed to reply, albeit with a hint of hesitation, "I guess so."

The coach smiled, grabbed Rachel by the throat and forced her back down onto his cock, rapidly fucking her mouth as she choked and gagged. Saliva spat out in long thick strings from her violated mouth, but the coach was relentless, pausing only to occasionally slap her across the cheek and spit in her face.

No one had ever spat on Rachel before, and the shock momentarily stunned her, but her surprise was soon replaced by excitement and appreciation for the coach's commitment to humiliate and demean her as she craved. Coach Stevens' saliva streamed into Rachel's own thick mucus that ran down her chin and onto her increasingly soaked cheerleading uniform. As she continued to deep throat his prodigious cock, frequently gagging and choking, he continued to spit on her, calling her a slut and a bitch as he did, and occasionally pulling his dick away so he could spit directly into her mouth.

Seated upon the bench, the coach extended a beckoning gesture to Rachel, who responded by crawling towards him on her knees. Eagerly, she enveloped the coach's cock, her oral prowess encompassing its entirety, down to the very base. Concurrently, he ensnared her in an unyielding grip, his robust, sinewy legs encircling her head, compelling her into a deeper embrace. The powerful hold immobilized her, rendering her struggles futile and defenceless against its commanding grasp.

"You should let this little slut suck your cock," advised the coach to Alex. "Trust me, you have no idea what you're missing."

However, Alex recoiled at the idea, his discomfort amusing the coach.

Rachel, with the coach's cock deep in her throat caught sight of Alex's hesitance and the internal struggle playing out on his face. Though unable to speak, her tear-filled eyes communicated a plea for him to reconsider, as she hoped Alex would take the coach's advice and let her submit to him like this. However, despite Rachel's unspoken plea, Alex remained steadfast in his refusal.

If Alex wasn't going to accept the invitation, the coach was determined to make full use of the dirty bitch himself.

"On your back, slut," ordered the coach, pointing at the bench, his tone remaining gentle and even, despite the forcefulness of his instruction and use of degrading language.

Rachel followed the coach's instructions diligently and watched expectantly as the coach removed his shorts and straddled the bench with his crotch hovering above Rachel's eager face. Slowly he lowered himself, squatting down until his balls brushed Rachel's nose and then fell into her open receptive mouth. With an expertise that belied her youth, she sucked, kissed and fondled the coach's balls with her lips and tongue as he made appreciative moans of pleasure.

With his balls in her mouth, and facing Rachel's feet, the coach was able to reach into her panties and play with hot moist cunt, causing her to buck and shudder with pleasure until, without warning, he withdrew his balls from her mouth and his fingers from inside her pussy, and slapped her vulva hard through her underwear.

As Rachel writhed in discomfort, Coach Stevens reached back, pulled his buttocks apart and sat back down on Rachel's face with his anus now positioned over her mouth. Obediently and without hesitation, Rachel extended her tongue toward his asshole, enthusiastically licking and teasing his ring as the coach continued to alternate between fingering her pussy and spanking her vulva.

Rachel bravely spread her legs as wide as she could, eager for the coach to continue to play with her cunt, fully aware that the broader she splayed her legs, the more stinging the slaps felt on her clit. Eventually the coach stopped spanking Rachel's pussy long enough for her to cum, her first orgasm of the session, but certainly not the last. In fact, the coach intensified his exploration of her twat, his fingers delving deeper as his rhythm and force increased until she violently squirted and climaxed again.

The locker room was momentarily filled with a mix of surprise and excitement as Rachel exclaimed, "Oh my god, I've never done that before!"

Coach Stevens smiled proudly and before long, was able to stimulate the eruption of a second jet from between Rachel's legs, showering the floor with an unexpected fountain. The coach's expression shifted to one of mild surprise, and his gaze quickly moved to the spreading pool of liquid.

"Alex," Coach's voice held an authoritative tone, "can you find a towel and wipe that up? We don't want anyone slipping in that puddle and getting injured." Alex's eyes scanned the room, momentarily unsure of where to locate a towel.

Reassurance came from the coach himself. "Don't worry," he said, his tone calm, "you can use Rachel's uniform." The suggestion, delivered with a hint of amusement, prompted Rachel's immediate cooperation. She gracefully sat up, and with a swift motion, she lifted the dress over her head and handed it to Alex, a playful glint in her eyes.

"And the bra, slut," ordered the coach.

Now clad in only her long knickerbocker socks and shoes. Rachel reclined back on the bench with an inviting expression. The coach took his place once again, spreading his butt and offering her his anus for a second time.

Rachel's tongue delved deeper into the coach's asshole as he repeatedly ground his anus into her face and used his ass cheeks to restrict her breathing. Each time she struggled frantically until he lifted himself up so she could gasp for air.

With her tits now exposed, the coach was able to turn part of his attention toward them. The breasts emanated an irresistible firmness and captivating perkiness, as if defying gravity itself. This allure extended an invitation he eagerly embraced, slapping, and spanking them with increasing intensity that mirrored his earlier treatment of her pert ass. A warm flush of red blossomed across the breasts, leaving behind marks that would darken into light bruises the following day. Yet Rachel's dedication to servicing the coach's asshole with her tongue remained unwavering.

With a deft mastery, the coach's fingers caressed her nipples, before he transitioned to gentle sucking, artful nibbling, and tantalizing biting. The nipples responded keenly to his skilled touch, becoming erect between his lips. In response to Rachel's unspoken yearnings, the coach's touch intensified, adeptly intertwining pleasure and a hint of exquisite pain.

The rimming, tea-bagging and tit slapping were only temporary distractions from the cock sucking, which the coach reinitiated by dragging Rachel to the end of the bench, her head hanging down backwards, and roughly returning to fucking her mouth.

In this position, Rachel was practically immobilized and little more than a piece of meat for the coach to orally abuse at will. He was able to thrust deeper into her throat and amplify the volume of saliva and mucus that continued to spill out of her mouth and ran down over her nose and eyes until it collected in her soggy matted hair.

The coach acknowledged her efforts with a final volley of smacks to her face which made a loud slapping sound, accentuated by the state of Rachel's wet sticky skin as she gave a triumphant smile, knowing that her hard work was appreciated.

"Could you see yourself learning to do that for Rachel?" The coach's question hung in the air, poised like a challenge yet laden with understanding. But Alex found himself ensnared in a web of thoughts, unable to untangle his feelings into coherent words.

The silence spoke volumes, Alex's inner conflict etched across his face. He felt trapped in a tug-of-war between his beliefs and his affection for Rachel. Her response was swift and resolute, an anchor in the midst of uncertainty. "Alex, I have faith in you," she interjected, her voice a soothing balm. "It would mean the world to me."

As Alex stared at Rachel, losing sight of her beauty, confused by her spit covered face, reddened skin and smeared makeup, he finally mustered his voice. His response was laden with his own inner struggle, a mix of hesitation and vulnerability. He shook his head slightly, avoiding direct eye contact with either Rachel or the coach. "I just can't wrap my head around why you'd encourage him to degrade and shame you like this," he muttered.

Rachel's gaze held a combination of understanding and hurt. She met Alex's words with a gentle rebuttal, her voice carrying a tinge of disappointment. "Alex, you're the only one who's making me feel judged or ashamed," she responded, her honesty a plea for empathy.

Alex's brows furrowed in consternation. His frustration with the situation was evident, yet beneath it all, his concern for Rachel shone through. "I just can't fathom why you'd willingly put yourself in a position like this," he continued, his voice tinged with both confusion and a hint of protective instinct. "I can't believe anyone could truly enjoy it."

Coach Stevens took the initiative at this point, bending Rachel over and pulling down her underwear. The coach briefly inspected the gusset and handed it over to Alex, his intent crystal clear as he pointed at the unmistakable damp patch--a reminder of Rachel's undeniable enjoyment, orgasms and squirting.

"Breath in the aroma," urged the coach toward Alex, a touch of amusement in his voice. "Rachel's enjoyment is right there, in the wetness and scent."

"It's not right," Alex's discontent was evident. "It's not right for you to treat her like this, and it's not right that she desires and enjoys it so much."

"Are you angry and disappointed with her, Alex?" asked the coach.

"Yes," Alex's response carried a mournful tone. "Very angry and upset."

"Then take off your belt," instructed Coach Stevens firmly. "Take it off and punish her."

Alex didn't react, but Coach's tone remained resolute. "Take off your belt, Alex."

Reluctantly, Alex unclasped his belt from around his jeans and slid it out of the loops.

Coach Stevens then turned Rachel's back toward him and bent her over, exposing her ample backside to Alex and his belt. Despite feeling betrayed and disgusted by Rachel's actions, Alex found himself unable and unwilling to punish the young woman he loved, the challenge to his respect for her too great.

"Allow me to assist you, Alex," offered the coach, using one hand to hold Rachel's hands behind her back while employing the other to spank her with the belt.

The coach administered the belt with unyielding determination, each strike finding its mark on Rachel's backside. The repeated impacts turned her flesh a deep shade of red, eventually giving rise to welts that adorned both of her cheeks. Alex averted his gaze, unable to bear the sight, as Rachel involuntarily winced with each stinging blow. Amidst the searing pain, her voice trembled yet resolute, uttering a heartfelt "thank you" that mingled with her plea for the intensity to escalate further.

With a mocking tone, the coach finally shifted his attention to Alex, inquiring, "Have you seen enough, or shall I continue her punishment?"

"Please, just stop," Alex pleased, his desperation palpable.

The coach took a moment, then looped the belt around Rachel's neck, an unsettling twist to the scene. His hand then moved swiftly, delivering several sharp slaps across her cheeks before he turned back to Alex, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Alex's gaze remained transfixed, a disturbing blend of concern and discomfort, as he watched the coach's actions unfold. The belt tightened around Rachel's neck, her face shifting to crimson and then to a haunting shade of purple. The veins on the side of her head strained against her skin, a distressing testament to the pressure applied. Eventually, her hands rose toward the belt, an instinctive reaction quashed by the coach's stern command to "put your hands behind your back." Her compliance was immediate, her hands finding their place obediently.

The coach's grip on the belt remained unyielding as his other hand embarked on a series of spanks and slaps that echoed throughout the room. Each strike was met with an unrelenting tension on the strap, a relentless reminder of her predicament. Rachel's breasts, face, and bottom were the target of his spiteful attention, the coach's precision disturbingly evident.

As the moments stretched on, Rachel's legs faltered, her strength finally waning. In response, the coach released the belt, allowing her to draw a dramatic gasp for air and her pallor to slowly return to normalcy. His words, a mix of praise and approval, sliced through the tense atmosphere. "Well done, Rachel," Coach Stevens commended, his voice carrying an almost unsettling admiration. "Very impressive!"

The coach's lips met Rachel's in a tender kiss, an intimate moment amid the tumultuous emotions. As emotions surged within her, a few tears traced their way down her cheeks.

"We ought to establish a safety word, perhaps, Rachel?" the coach's voice suggested, his words a curious blend of concern and control. But before she could respond, the belt constricted again, and the disturbing sequence was repeated twice more, a macabre dance of power and submission. Each instance, he held her within the tightening grip of the belt, only releasing his hold as her legs finally gave way.

On the fourth occurrence, Rachel was allowed to drop to her knees, the tension on the belt maintained, yet loosened just enough to allow a semblance of movement. In this vulnerable posture, he forced his cock back into her mouth, a twisted form of intimacy amidst the complex dynamics at play.

"Alex," commanded the coach, "go to my office, and fetch the box of condoms from the top drawer of my desk. It's time to move on to the next exercise."

In his flustered state, Alex nodded and hurriedly left the locker room, desperate for some rest bite, but unknowingly leaving the door unlocked.

Upon his return, the scene was not what he anticipated. Rachel was bent over a kit bin and Coach Stevens was fucking her from behind, condoms forgotten. Rachel's face was still smeared with filth as she urged the coach to fuck her harder and faster. If that scene was not sufficient to daze Alex, the presence of Brad and Jay, his football buddies, watching the scene unfold with unabashed enthusiasm, certainly was.

"Stick it to her, coach," urged Brad.

"Destroy the little whore," added Jay.

As Alex looked around, trying to make sense of the situation, Rachel climaxed loudly and intensely as the coach frantically pounded away on her.

"How is she, coach?" asked Brad.

"Tight," groaned the coach in response, performatively slapping her ass for the benefit of Alex's watching teammates.

Coach Stevens offered Alex a partial explanation for the unexpected audience, his tone dismissive and accusing. "You forgot to lock the door, Alex," he explained. "Brad and Jay wandered in."

Brad, ever the joker, couldn't resist adding fuel to the fire. "No need to fret, Alex. We've seen her in this position before."

Laughter rippled, though Alex's eyes blazed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Rachel smiled at Brad and Jay, a shared joke evident in her eyes--an unspoken connection that left Alex in the dark.

"Don't make me laugh, Brad," replied Rachel, her eyes rolling back and her tongue protruding from her open mouth. "This feels soooo good!"

Jay didn't want to be left out of the fun and joked, "Coach, Brad and I are up for this. Put us in the game!"

Coach Stevens' voice cut through the locker room's charged air, his words a promise of future glory. "Not this game, boys," he declared, "but trust me, I've got plans to get you off the bench and into the action soon enough."

Amidst the mocking energy, Rachel's voice rose like a crescendo, her eyes locking onto the coach's. "You can count me in too," she proclaimed with fire in her eyes. "One day, I want to try out for the whole team!"

As Rachel's declaration hung in the air, Coach Stevens clarified the purpose of the scene that Jay and Brad had stumbled into, his words a beacon of understanding. "Today is just a demonstration game for Alex's benefit," he explained.

A tempest brewed in the depths of Alex's eyes; an undeniable maelstrom of emotions etched onto his face. The air around him crackled with the intensity of his anger, palpable and potent. His jaw gritted, knuckles turned white from the force of his clenched fists, and his entire demeanor a fierce silent storm that demanded attention. Even Brad and Jay, swept up in the rush of the moment, could feel the storm clouds amassing in Alex's gaze.

In that charged atmosphere, Brad exchanged a knowing glance with Jay. No words were necessary; the unspoken understanding was crystal clear. It was time to withdraw, to step away from the brewing tempest before it erupted and engulfed them too.

As Brad and Jay made their hasty exit, Alex grappled with a surge of humiliation that threatened to drown him. The full weight of his vulnerability settled heavily upon his shoulders, and the bitter truth sank in. The tales of this experience would soon echo through the campus, amplifying his inner turmoil and shame.