The Warped & Wicked Gym Coach Ch. 01

Exposed legs and buttocks, with only a thin strip of clothing covering his swelling member and gonads, he slowly started to step forward, until he stood directly in front of her.

"Lift up your shirt some, okay?" His tee hung low, down past his hips. He did as she asked, in the front, up to his ribs. She bent down to check it out. It felt as if his cheeks were ablaze.

"Oh yeah, the pouch definitely fits better. How's the waistband?" She tugged some at the elastic. His cock began to swell, and he shut his eyes tight, trying in vain to wish away the upcoming erection. "Feels a little loose . . . Here, turn around some," she ordered.

"Ms. Bandy?" He dropped his shirt. "I don't - it's open back there." She stood up and sweetly smiled. "I know," she knitted her brow and pressed her lips together sympathetically, "It's just to check the fit." She put a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him around.

He froze a bit. This was not okay. He knew it. Something was wrong. "Shirt back up please," she asked nicely.

He lifted up his tee, up over his buttocks. He felt her fingers enter the straps as she pulled down on them, moving the backs of her fingers along the bottom of his rear end curves.

"The butt straps are kinda hanging off of you," she noticed. You don't think it'll fall down during exercises?"

"I - I don't know," he stuttered.

"Here, maybe you should do some jumping jacks to test them out," she suggested, folding her arms in front of her. She looked even more attractive to him than usual. He felt his penis pushing at his front.

"That's not necessary . . . I mean . . ."

"Jacob, I don't want have to go over this again. Let's just make sure they fit today, or else we'll have to take them in." She started to smile with an open mouth, moving her hands with a fun attitude. "Jumpin' jacks! Four count! Ready? Go!"

He started doing jumping jacks, in a kind of Pavlovian response. He could feel his dick pushing the fabric away as it bounced within the pouch, and the waistband did indeed start to slide down a bit, but he didn't say anything. He just wanted this over with.

"Wait, I can't see anything. Take your shirt off for me." His palms got sweaty. The way she said that . . .

"Jake . . .? The shirt?"

He really did not want to take it off, laughable as that may have seemed at present. He had no pants on, for example. But it was the last vestige of his dignity. He didn't know how to make that known to her. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he should do at all, so he did what she told him to. He removed his shirt, and dropped it to his side. She gave him a pleasant, dreamy look.

"Okay, start hopping."

He began the exercise. The waistband began to slide down, as the the triangular pouch seemed to him to hang off his penis, caught upon it like a hook, and with each hop it felt that his erection was more visible. He felt ridiculous.

"Yeah, they're falling down, alright," she observed. Was she blushing now? "Definitely gotta be taken in - let's get a quick measurement."

Ms. Bandy grabbed a pencil from her desk, and then moving alongside him, she crouched down, on the side of his right leg, and pulled the band up to his hips. His penis was being forced down by the pouch, pulling it away from his waist, exposing the top of his pubic hair, and the creases where the lower abs meet the hip flexors.

The room felt charged. It was quiet, except for his quickened breath. He could hear her breathing as well; he imagined he felt it on his leg. He looked down at the top of her head, just inches from his member, which jutted out perpendicular to the floor. She has to see it, he thought. Oh my god, she sees it, she does. She knows.

She folded the waistband at the hip, and marked it with the pencil.

"Looks like about three-quarters of an inch," she noted. "Go put your shorts on."

Red-faced, Jake picked up his shirt from the floor and covered himself with it as he walked as quickly as possible behind the partition once again. He was shaking so badly he could barely remove the jockstrap, putting on the shorts without them, tucking his erection into his shorts' waistband. As he pulled his shirt back on, covering his exposed bell-end, he felt a huge sense of relief.

"Okay," she said. "All set. I've got an old sewing machine in here; give me the strap and I'll take them in a bit for you. Please be sure to swing by at the end of the day, and they'll be ready for you, okay?" He nodded, and handed over the strap. "Thanks," he muttered like a teenage boy. He went out without another word. She waved at him distractedly.

Jacob felt sick for the rest of the day. He couldn't believe what had happened. In the moment, as raw as it was, he felt so confused and trapped -and, honestly, turned on - that it hadn't seemed like a calamity; upon reflection, it was a catastrophe. He had been been stripped to an eyepatch in front of the hottest woman he knew. He had been forced to do jumping jacks in an ill-fitting jockstrap with a raging hard-on. She made him expose his naked bottom to her, like a little boy at the nurse's office. And worst of all, she had made him do so against his will . . . or had she? She never threatened him. She smiled the whole time. She was so sweet and so kind - she couldn't have known how uncomfortable he felt. She couldn't have wanted to humiliate him.

But humiliated he was. How much did she notice? How much did she see? Did she want to see? Or was she just different, more evolved, more comfortable with the human body? Was she just a better person?

Of course she was. It had to be his hang-up.

School ended. He went to the gymnasium, and took the stairs to her office above, his heart beating faster with each new step. He wasn't sure he could look her in the eye again. He got to the door, and took a deep breath, and knocked on the cheap thin wood.

"Come in," he heard her say. He opened. She sat at her desk, saw him, and gave him the sweetest smile. "Hiya, Jake. Thanks for coming right away," she said. It was as if nothing bad had happened, that nothing terrible had taken place just hours ago in this very room. He felt a little relieved. She pushed her desk away and stood up. She walked over to the door, and closed it.

"First things first: here is your brand-new, custom-fit jockstrap, personally altered by yours truly," she smiled and handed him a small plastic bag with the strap inside. He took it, and put it on his lap. She said back down again.

"Thanks," he replied. "Is that all?"

She inhaled, and looked a bit away. "Not . . . all," she answered. She folded her hands on her desk, and took a serious demeanor. "There's something I think we need to discuss. Earlier, I feel like a line was crossed. A line of appropriate behavior."

"Oh," he said. So he wasn't crazy. Ms. Bandy had finally realized - despite, he was sure, the best intentions - that asking him to strip to his underwear in front of her and kneeling by his crotch while he sported major wood was a just line too far. "Yeah, I think so too."

Her shoulders dropped, and she began to smile again. "Oh, good, I'm so glad you agree," she sighed. "I've felt horrible all day."

"Me too!" he exclaimed. He wanted to reach out and grab her hands, but he held back. He felt so much better.

"I want you to know that I don't entirely blame you, Jake," she said, pursing her lips and her eyebrows, and shaking her head. "Not every . . . erection . . . is lust."

Everything went sideways. "Wh-what?" he responded.

"I mean, I don't think you meant to disrespect me."

"Disrespect you? Me? How?"

"Jacob," she said, looking down uncomfortably, "It was pretty obvious. I tried to play it off, but I was really affected by the whole thing. My hands were shaking. I felt . . . I want to say . . . violated."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I'm not just speaking to you as your teacher, but as your sister in Christ," she explained. "You may believe that erections are involuntary - a lot of people do - but the church tells us they are not. Every man has a choice to make when he's with a woman. Will he look upon her with lust? Or will he see her with the eyes of respect, as God looks upon her?"

He was flabbergasted.

She continued: "Lust is sexual desire that dishonors the object of its desire, and has no regard for God. An erection is a manifestation of lust, Jacob. You treated me . . ." she seemed to hold back tears and then exhaled, "like an object."

He stared at the floor.

"Believe me, I get it! You're a young man, just learning about your body, and dealing with desires. That's why I'm not angry," she said lovingly. "In fact, I just want to help! To help you to manage your desires, to act with intention, to resist wicked temptation. To become the good and righteous man I know you're gonna be," she looked at him brightly, filled with hope, then suddenly darkened again. "But I can't allow myself to be treated disrespectfully, which is why we're having this talk, okay? As a child of Christ, as a woman, and as your teacher, I deserve your respect. I am a subject, not an object. Is that clear?"

He was totally blindsided, and he felt scared. "Yes, of course! I respect you! I - I don't - I didn't - " He didn't know where to begin.

"It's okay, Jake, really it is," she said as she stood up. She walked behind him, and put her hands on his shoulders. "This is just between us, alright? I'm not going to say anything. I just wanted you to know that that kind of behavior is unacceptable, because I value myself. But I also want you to know that I don't think you're a bad person. And I want you to know that I want to help you, okay?"

He wanted that, suddenly. He needed help. He did lust after her. He felt a powerful lust, even now. "How?" he asked.

"Look," she said, "I know that teenage boys' bodies are a whirlwind. And I know that certain . . . situations can seem sexual, when they're anything but. Like, for instance, a fitting for underwear with a woman so close to your, well, down there. Your body can become . . . confused." She grimaced and shook her head. He was dying inside.

"But the mind is stronger than the body! In fact, that's the key to my entire lesson plan for the year. Physical education is really mental education! You gotta focus your mind - focus it on your goals - and your body will respond! It's so simple, but so many people just don't get it. God wouldn't've made us these bodies without the ability to control them, would he?"

He knew she was right. He had sinned. He had treated her like an object - a cheap whore, kneeling just inches away from his cock, caressing his smooth, firm ass with her fingers, practically designed for his sexual gratification - instead of respecting her as a sister in Christ. "I'm so sorry," he said, as he looked up at her, tears in his eyes.

She smiled, closed her eyes, and breathed softly. "Look, I remember what it was like to be your age. Really, I do. Being an eighteen-year old virgin is not easy. You. . . are a virgin, aren't you?" He felt slightly sick, but he managed to nod. "Jake, don't be embarrassed. That's amazing! And maybe that's why I want to be there for you. Someone mentored me once upon a time, and that's why I wanted to talk. Heck, it's why I became a teacher in the first place - to mold young minds, like others did for me, to make me strong, successful, and happy."

"I feel like we've already bonded here. On the second day of school! I think that's just awesome. We're gonna be good friends," she said as she patted his shoulders. Then she leaned down, putting her face close in front of his, and looked serious, as she said, "But I'm gonna test you this year. I'm gonna make you use this," she touched his forehead with her finger, " . . . to harness your body's potential," she touched his chest. "I've got my eye on you. You got that?" And then she smiled again.

He did, too. "Got it," he replied. "Thank you . . . thank you so much, Ms. Bandy."

"Okay, go on home, Packert," she lightly punched his arm. "See ya tomorrow!"

"First thing," he said as he got up, and walked toward the door. He stopped, and turned back, "God - God bless you, Ms. Bandy," he said. She reacted as one would with a puppy.

"Oh, how sweet you are! God bless you too, Jake," she said earnestly. She seemed to shake her head in disbelief, and smiled queerly, as she said, "God bless you so much."

He felt it odd, but didn't exactly know why, and so he smiled back and waved as he opened the door and left.