Wresting Team Gone Wild Ch. 11

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 11: The Hose technique

"Boys, I've had the confirmation that several teams are prepared to implement the so-called hose technique in future competitions. A bird even told me that our biggest competitors were training to focus only on that!"

"Would that be even allowed?" Asked Amir, for the first time, a bit concerned.

"Great question. The national referee committee has been consulted and they did not find anything on the wrestling rules preventing one athlete to ejaculate on his opponent during a match."

Some of the Wolves gasped. We were sitting on the bleachers of the gym, waiting to go on the mat for our Tuesday's training. Coach Ranson was delivering a speech to guide us for our next couple of weeks before the following big competition. The others members of the staff were there too, taking notes.

"Coach, the other teams are really going to... try to cum on us?!" Asked Harry, flabbergasted. I mean, we all were.

"What can I say? Russel really had a tremendous impact during the first competition of the season and it created some ripples."

I wanted to bury myself in the grounds of the school. Was it really all because of me?

Travis looked at me, he seemed so annoyed by what my mere presence had done to this team and to our sport. We had not really talked since the night he thought that I had come out as gay to Robert de Portier. I did not know for sure that he believed that but for a few days now, everyone in the team seemed to have confirmed among themselves that I was gay. I was trying my hardest not to care about it.

"Thanks Russel... Not everyone loves to be covered in cum!" Complained Eli.

I did not even respond to him. What was the point?

"This is precisely what we are going to train you for, Gardener! Making sure that our opponents' foolish attempts do not distract you from winning!" Settled the Head Coach. "Better than that, following our Champion's lead here, just like Scott, you will learn how to destabilize them by pulling off the same trick!"

Coach Alberto was on the sidelines, clearly uncomfortable with the whole idea. As the season progressed, he had gone from being very happy to work with Coach Ranson to very confused about some of his choices. He was not very happy with me either, I could tell.

"Coach is right." Said Damian.

He picked up his phone and launched a video that he showed us to everyone:

"Look at what happened in Denver's last competition, three guys lost their matches because their opponents cummed through their singlets!"

"Damn, those guys are crazy! We're doing wrestling, not gay porn!" Said Cory while staring at a video where a guy wearing a yellow singlet was rubbing his hard dick on the back of his opponent. That was a lot!

"All sports go through this kind of evolutions. Some only last for a season, some stay for years and years. We just need to adapt." Explained Coach Ranson.

"Head Coach... You.... You really want the Wolves to go on this path?" Alberto interjected.

It was the first time ever that anyone from the staff questioned Coach Ranson's methods or views.

"It's not about what I want, Alberto. This is just about winning. But maybe you want to share your wisdom, after all, you were here last year when the team performed so well..."

Alberto shut up and moved back, his head down. There was nothing to gloat about finishing dead last the previous season.

"Obviously, the main focus will still be on the moves, the hose technique is just one new way to take the upper hand over your opponent. Really, it's not that different than the various methods we teach you to pin them down. As a matter of fact, the athlete's attitude on the mat has always been key to winning, that's why I focus so much of my efforts on making sure you all feel confident on the mat."

The Coach looked directly at me -- he had surely paid great attention of getting me at ease with showcasing my body and being touched; he then addressed the whole team:

"If this is a problem from anyone in here, you can go now, while we are still leading the scoreboards in the state."

I would like to say that I considered leaving but the idea did not even cross my mind. I was in too deep. Also, a part of me was sort of proud. Maybe I had really changed the sport for decades to come and at least, I would not be single out any more for what had happened with Strafer. On the contrary, I was a pioneer, just like Coach Ranson had predicted after this infamous match.

No one moved from the bleachers, the few guys who had been shocked by Coach Ranson's ways had left the Wolves weeks ago.

The next two hours of training were bound to be the craziest of my life, well, thus far. And that was saying something!

The Coach decided that we would focus on the hose technique to be prepared for every outcome. As I had shown that I could easily get hard on the mat and ejaculate on my opponent at the right time, Coach Ranson decided I would be on the other hand this time. What I needed to learn was how to take a hose attack from my opponent without flinching.

Yes, the Coach did refer to a wrestler ejaculating on another one as a "hose attack".

The rest of the team, who was still a bit shy about getting hard, and even more so, cumming on the mat needed to let go of that insecurity. In that way, the tables had turned a little as the others were the one who needed to learn to gain confidence. But soon, I would understand this only meant I would end up in the same submissive position all over again.

Although the explanations of the Coach were very clear, it did not fully register at first. It was only when I found myself in the starting position, on my knees, arching my back, my two hands against the mat, and I heard the Coach ordering me not to move that I realized what was going to happen.

"Who wants to go first?" Asked Coach Ranson. "No need to be shy!"

I was certain that Damian would move forward but it was Tom who volunteered himself.

"I'm ready, Coach! Let's go! What should I do?" He spoke, seemingly very enthusiastic.

"Good boy! That's the energy I want to see. The idea is pretty simple, you need to learn how to implement the hose technique in the event you might need it at a crucial point during a competition. Now, for this training today, it is obvious that Scott would beat you if this was a regular match."

I felt a beam of pride in my chest... but, as often, it did not last long.

"For this one, Russel, you are forbidden to move or fight back. That's perfect team work because what you need to learn Scotty, is not to be phased by anything that might happen during a match. Tom, on your hand, it's pretty easy, you must get hard to the point of nearly ejaculating but you have to control it, and only release yourself at the most crucial time, meaning, when I will say so!"

"Ok, Coach... But like, it was easy for Scotty when he fought with Strafer because he's a fag but for me... Getting hard with another guy, it's not that simple..."

"Come on!" I snapped. "You got hard just looking at my ass during the calendar's photoshoot!"

Weird how I decided to challenge his lie about him not being aroused by me, and not the one about me being a fag.

"Come on Ginger boy, if you have followed Doctor Peterson's advice and did not cum lately, it should not be that difficult to get a fucking hard on. You're 18 for fuck's sake!"

The Coach said, annoyed. "This is also why I have chosen Russel for the first attempt, it's obvious that he has the most girly ass of the team. If you cannot get hard with him, how are you going to manage with way more masculine guys?"

That was harsh but I have to admit, as the derogatory comments had kept on coming for months and months, they seemed more and more reasonable, less shocking. Those were just natural things to say about me. I was the fag of the team.

While Tom was approaching me nervously, Alberto and Daniel were making the other athletes stretch and do some cardio but I was convinced everyone was looking at us. Finally, I felt Tom behind me.

"This is all about confidence boys, your opponent must feel that you're the dominant of the two, you're the alpha!"

Tom groped me at the sound of these words but as a trained wrestler, my reflexes kicked in immediately! I released myself from his hands, turned around and in a split second, I was grabbing his leg to make him fall on the mat and score a point.

"RUSSEL!" Yelled the Coach. "This is not a match, just a training exercise! Damn it, you are a good wrestler but you really need to learn to keep your cool!"

I stopped myself while Tom was already lying down on the mat, stunned by my swiftness. I did not mind the Coach scolding me, putting Tom back in his place was totally worth it.

I went back to the starting position and after a few seconds of hesitation, Tom held my thighs again and this time, as instructed, I did not move. The ginger freshman then lingered on my back. I felt his limp cock through the thin singlet caressing my thigh, then my butt, before lodging itself right in my ass-crack.

Those types of frictions happened frequently during a match but generally, it was right in the middle of the action, not purposely and not in a still position. Well, unless some of the guys were purposely trying to throw you off. Coach Ranson was right in the fact that wrestling was ultimately a sport where the attitude counts as much if not more than the physic and technique.

"Are you feeling comfortable Russel?" Enquired the Coach.

"I... I'm okay."

I mean, I had been through worse at this point than a ginger cock stuck against my singlet, even if it was in my ass crack.

"Tom, go on then, get a hard on. The whole point is for you to make Scott uncomfortable and for Scott to remain unphased. It's all about focus."

I felt Tom starting to rub himself against me, his dick was going up and down my ass crack. The fabric of our gear was so thin, sometimes, I had the impression we were both naked, but thankfully, we were not. He was breathing heavily behind me, a few inches from my ears, I could hear the other guys training nearby.

Of course, Damian Feytons was already whistling at us.

As he kept going, Tom's dick became hard against my bum. To remain calm, I tried to think about something else. I had already encountered hard opponents during a match, incidentally touching their stiffed cocks or feeling it against my back so this was no big deal. Hell, I was hard myself in most of the recent competitions we attended. The Coach was right once again, we just had to learn to live with that.

"Come on, get that thing up, Ginger boy!"

The poor guy, I thought. I was not sure the Coach's words were helping.

In a weird way, I wanted him to get a good erection as I thought this could help me with my "gay" reputation. I know this sounds crazy but hear me out. This time, I was not the one getting hard touching another guy, Tom was! if everyone started to get hard-ons and cum on their opponents, then, they would understand what happened to me with Strafer had nothing to do with being a fag.

I could feel he was losing his erection so instinctively, I started to move my ass just a little, to help him out with some more rubbing.

"Yeah." He mumbled, imperceptibly in my ear.

Now, his humping got more intense and his 18 years old juicy dick was getting really hard.

Coach Ranson came near us.

"Good Ginger. Now, I want you to get this man juice all warm and ready."

The Head Coach sounded almost excited for a split second. Hearing him talking about Tom's juice got my stomach to hurt. He was really to cum on me? For sure, it would go through his singlet, and then, probably through mine too.

"I'm hard, Coach." Confirmed Tom.

Damian and Eli giggled on the background. I heard some howling: "Awhooooo".

"You go, Tom, show Scotty Faggy what if feels like to get splattered with jeez!" Shouted Eli.

"Boys!" Scolded Alberto, who was still very pissed at the situation and slapped Eli behind the head.

Tom was now rubbing his shaft furiously as if he was trying to wank himself off though my ass. I was sure that from the exterior, it looked like he was fucking me. I cringed a little.

"Do you feel like you might cum, boy?" Asked Coach Ranson.

"I... I..." He mumbled on top of me. "I don't think so, that's hard with everyone watching and... Russel is a fag, that's weird."

"Come on Tom! Get in the zone!" Encouraged the Head Coach.

"Yes, Coach! I'm trying."

However, under the pressure, I felt his dick softening up against my ass. This was not good for Tom but this was not good for me either. Did that mean that I was the only weirdo who was getting a boner while fighting my opponents? Thinking of which, it had barely never happened to me the previous year.

"Tom, what's the problem? Have you cummed in the past 48 hours?"

"No, Sir, I promise." Tom let go of me, defeated. "I swear. It's just... I'm not a fag!"

The Coach slapped him and everyone in the gymnasium got silent.

"First of all, there is nothing wrong with being a fag. Everyone is welcomed in this team. Second of all, there is nothing faggy about this! Unless I am mistaking here, I did not ask you to blow Russel's dick or to be fucked in ass?"

"No... No, Coach you did not!"

"And not so long ago, you were pretty hard just checking on Russel's ass..."

"Yes, but I could see his asshole then! It was like a juicy pussy, and Scott was hiding his dick. Seeing his bare-naked ass and pussy, that's why I got hard last time. I'm sorry, Coach..."

"Ok. Calm down, boy. Look, this is a first attempt and this is precisely why we are training you for today. As long as you're giving yourself 100%, I can accept that you don't make it on the first try."

Coach Ranson was now talking to the rest of the team.

Doctor Peterson who had been on the side lines until this point spoke up:

"Maybe, for the first attempt, we could make it easier for the guys and only later on, make the exercise more aligned with the competition's requirements. We do have a couple of weeks to get the Wolves there."

"What are you thinking, Leo?"

"Well, Tom was getting there but yes, as a straight normal man, he was struggling pushing himself to the edge rubbing himself against some nylon fabric. We all men here, we all love pussy, we can understand that. Although, as I've come to understand, Russel's bare ass usually seems to do the trick and get the boys horned up. This team has been blessed with a member who can offer a substitute of a girl's ass to the enjoyment of most of the team, we would be stupid not to take advantage of that."

I straightened up, not liking where this was going.

"That's very interesting but what are you suggesting concretely, doc?" Enquired Coach Ranson.

"Pretty simple. Scott can do the exercise bare ass so it's easier for our young Tom here to maintain an erection. Once, we will have made some progress this way, then, we can try with the singlet on to replicate the competition's constraints."

"Bare ass?" I mumbled.

"Ok, let's try this! Russel, take off your singlet." Ordered Coach Ranson. Damian was smiling to his ears in front of me.

"Coach?" I pleaded.

"Come on, what was the training we did about your insecurities all about? Have not you learnt anything? Just get naked, everyone here has seen it all already. I guess that it will be even better for you, if you cope with feeling a dick against your bare skin, it will be a fucking cake walk to handle those guys in singlets during the competitions!"

At this point, I had been naked and exposed to my teammates so many times that I did not really care anymore. I just pull out my singlet in front of Alberto's disapproving eyes. Tom's hard-on improved significantly from this point on. He even said:

"It serves you right Scott for putting us all in this mess!"

Thankfully, Tom was still wearing his singlet as they did not want to make it too easy for him. This way, he would learn to stimulate himself rubbing against a wrestler's ass, even if for this exercise, he was helped by a bare faggot's ass.

Right away, Tom lodged his now stiffed dick in my uncovered ass crack. That was quite a shock at first. Now that I was naked, it did make a difference.

Of course, he was not naked and he was not penetrating me so this was not homo at all, the Coach had assured us of that, but still, I felt drops of precum coming through his singlet and I swore there were being deposited right on my asshole.

The more he was going at it, the more he was spreading my ass cheeks with his hands and soon, he was dry humping me on the mat as if he was a horny dog on a cushion. No matter what, I had to remain calm and not move.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Tom groaned. I felt some of his sweat and spit falling on my back. Again, no singlet was protecting me. My bare skin felt it all.

"Are you close?" Asked the Coach.

"Yes, Coach, I want to cum!"

I was glad. It would be over soon!

"Ok, so now we're up to the final and most tricky phase of the hose technique. Controlling yourself. You may only cum when I say so, Ginger."

"Coach, I..."

"Keep doing what you do! Don't stop. Just do not ejaculate."

As instructed, Tom kept on dry humping me as the other athletes gathered around us to see this last part of the show. He was moaning now, struggling not to cum as his precum was flying from his dick. I knew this was all in the interest of the sport but damn, this was going pretty far!

I felt his cock literally throbbing against my hole. He must have wanted to cum so hard. I wondered. How bad was it looking? I must really have looked like a fag? I tried not to look at Travis, I would not be ok with his sickened face.

After nearly 10 minutes of this shit, I just wanted for him to cum but the Coach did not seem in a hurry to say the magic words.

"Good job you two! You are both doing great. Tom, try to put Scott in discomfort and Scott, your mission is to stay on your grounds, remain calm and collected just as you are doing now, taking this dick without flinching."

It was always such a great feeling to hear the (rare) praise of our Head Coach. I tried not to lose my focus on the exercise.

Still, I desperately wanted this to end and a part of me also wished for Tom to fail. He had been a real prick lately and I knew he had not the best control over his ejaculation. I could get him. Slowly, I tried to clinch my ass and move a little to add even more frictions on top of his frantic movements.

It worked.

"Oh fuck, please don't do that, I'm gonna cum."

Tom whispered in my ear. I just smiled to myself and continued. I felt his dick throbbing even more, right at the edge of my anus, nobody could see it but I winked with my asshole. I know his cockhead was so close, even still covered with his singlet, it would send shockwaves in his balls.

"Coach, I...." Tom pleaded but it was too late, he was exploding in his singlet!

The cum went through the nylon fabric and landed right into my ass crack. Tom moved back as I felt my anus swallowing some of his warm juice. Fuck. It was just a little bit but I hoped nobody had seen this.

Millions of thoughts were going through my mind, but mostly, I was proud. I had won. I had remained unphased while Tom had totally lost his cool and exploded without being authorized to do so. Who was the fag now?