Wresting Team Gone Wild Ch. 33

It had been planned for weeks. Dean Falker, Coach Ranson and myself would talk during a press conference. It was my time to shine.

Travis was waiting for me. He gave me the notebook back.

"Scott... I really hope you know what you're doing, those guys are willing to do anything. They're sick!"

"I have nothing to lose." I replied.

I hugged him. He gave me back the hug despite of the spunk staining my singlet.

I walked to the little stage where we were meant to sit. Coach Ranson was anxious. Having him sitting next to me, uncomfortable and worried, was an amazing feeling. The cameras were rolling. I was really going to do it.

"Scott, give me that!" Ranson whispered with an authoritative tone in my ear, trying to reach the notebook.

I ignored him. He must have felt so stupid, leaving me alone in his office with the evidence of his crime. Maybe a part of him, deep down -- or not so deep down -, wanted to get caught, wanted his infamous journal to be released.

Given how much of a hero he has become to some, I wonder more and more if he did not leave it for me to find on purpose. Was it his ultimate manipulative act?

The press conference started with a few words from the Dean. At least, he had the decency to resign in disgrace the following day. But at that moment, Dean Falker did not have any sufficient words in his vocabulary to praise both the Coach and I.

We had put his university on the map. The Dean was proud to say that he had fully supported the Wolves and Coach Ranson's methods, as unorthodox as they may have seemed at times. He was so excited for the turn taken by the sport.

Gross.

Coach Ranson talked too but he was more inconsistent. He pushed back on the critics on the over-sexualization of wrestlers with stupid and irrelevant statements such as: "men being men".

Honestly, at times, it seemed like he was having a stroke. I guess that knowing the most perverted, vicious and dark side of yourself is going to be exposed to the world can do that to you.

And then, it was time for me to talk. The first question was about any potential offers from competitive colleges or even professional teams.

I smiled. Again, I was calm. For the first time in months, I had clarity of mind.

"I think I am done with wrestling." I simply stated.

A gasp went through the audience. I have to say, I shocked myself too. I did not think this would be my first declaration but it was true, wrestling had taken too much from me, I was done with it. Sadly, I have not been able to put a foot on a mat since that day...

Maybe, later in my life, I will go back, but this is still too fresh.

Before someone else could ask another question, I spoke again:

"To be honest, I don't think that I have done much wrestling throughout this past year."

The Coach next to me was shaking heavily, he grabbed my bare thigh under the table. If you watch the YouTube video of the press conference, you can see it at 1:56', and again at 2:03'. I continued.

"What we have done this year had nothing to do with the sport but everything to do with the sick perversions of the person sitting on my right."

You know what happened next. It felt like a bomb had exploded in the gymnasium.

The Dean and the Coach tried to cancel the whole event. The press who had come to make a piece about college wrestling found themselves with a national scandal on their hands. My teammate Tom, broke down crying in the audience. And then, once everyone had calmed down, I started reading.

Or maybe it was the other way around, people finally shut up when I started reading:

*

"June 21st, 2022

I have known Falker for a while, even before he became dean at the university. Let's just say that we were frequenting the same kind of forums.

It had taken us a few years to reveal our identities to each other. I just wanted to make sure that I had more files on him than he had on me before revealing myself to him, and he was probably doing the same thing. Just the usual precautionary measures when we do what we do.

Falker was quite surprised when he found out who I was. As a wrestling Coach, I had acquired a nation-wide reputation already, my athletes were achieving great results. How could he have known that I was also fucking those alpha males on the side."

*

Another gasp in the audience.

I could see the cameras recording everything. At this point, the dean stood up and tried to pull the micro away for me, but I am a skilled wrestler... I was quick and moved aside, the dean fell down from the chair. Ridiculously. It was another interruption, but it was the last one.

As you know, I kept reading. For a very long time.

*

"September 11th, 2022

Today was the big day. I met the boys and immediately started to act on the plan.

First step was of course to get the guys impressed and intimidated. I gave the whole show, stern looks, firm voice, I put a couple of the arrogant ones in their place. Leo and I were not fully sure if it were a good idea to get them butt naked from the start but I thought we should set the tone right away.

Without doing anything too crazy, we did the weigh-in in the middle of the gymnasium and I asked every one of them to strip down. I did things right, each of them had to undress in front of the others, one by one. Fuck, I have already jerked off to that memory a couple of times before writing this entry.

Having some naïve fresh meat, ready to be devoured, what an amazing sensation! (...)"

*

I kept on going through the journal like this, at a slow but steady pace. I managed to read the first ten pages of the journal while the crowd went fully silent.

My teammates seemed particularly stunned.

Amir was trembling, probably thinking about the dildo waiting for him in the locker-room or maybe still buried deep in his ass, Tom was sobbing. Eli and Harry were looking at Ranson as if they were about to murder him. Damian was seemingly on the verge of puking.

Some of the passages that I had read were all about how Ranson got him under his wing, making him his main ally to get to me.

The more I was reading, the more the atmosphere shifted to plain torpor. This could not be real, right?

It was. Everything was true.

I have watched the video many times since then, mainly just to see the Coach, slowly but surely decomposing himself, dying inside. But now, when I watch the footage, I see something different. Could it be possible that Ranson was actually proud of himself as I was reading his journal? Again, was there some part of him wanting his "Experiment" to be released?

Funny how life always send you on unexpected curves. I thought and feared that my claim to fame would be the porn videos that I had shot. Turned out, it was the video: "Wrestling star athlete read shocking Coach's journal live! Coach is a real perv!" which made me famous.

8 million views in 24 hours. 142 million views to this date. The shockwave in the world of wrestling and college sports in general was immense. Almost immediately, it went over my head and I was completely overwhelmed.

Nobody is prepared to face a scandal of his scale.

The day of, I spent the afternoon with Travis, hidden in Harry's dorm room who was not there, and I met Sergio.

We spent hours, reading further in the notebook and comparing notes. Thanks to Sergio, I learned more about what the Coach had done in his previous position. I may have been his perfect victim, but I was not the first. Far from it.

Travis listed me names of athletes he had reached to while trying to frame him. There were hundreds of names. Again, I was overwhelmed.

We released the entire journal online the same afternoon. We wanted to do it as soon as possible so the whole world could see the truth for themselves, before any official enquiry or formal complaints. Maybe it was a bad idea.

Sure, it shocked most people and exposed the Coach and the wrestling staff to the world, but some of the readers started to worship the journal, treating it almost as if it was the Holy Bible.

"How to turn a straight guy into your personal fag?": That is an interesting guide for sickos to have on their night stand! And I am sure many do.

Travis offered me to stay at his place during the following summer as I did not want to go back to my parents. He was very apologetic about taking any kind of parts in the Coach's sick games, but most of all, he was mad at himself for not fighting more to get me out of there during the second semester.

I am not mad at him, in any way.

I would have done anything Coach Ranson would have asked of me. I fucked Damian Feytons' ass just because he had told me to after all. Same thing with Amir. Travis had not been perfect in this story, neither did I. But at least, he had tried to open my eyes at some point and he had the good sense to leave the situation to save himself after a few months.

Honestly, I was just glad that Travis was there, at that moment. At least, I still had one friend.

Later in the evening, while it was already dark outside, I went to collect my stuff from my dorm room. I had to turn my phone off as he kept ringing and to carefully avoid journalists on the campus until I reached my room.

Victor was there, lying in his bed but wide awake. He looked awful. He had seen the video of the press conference (obviously, everybody was talking about it) and he had already read the journal online.

There were multiple parts about him, Coach Ranson had found an unexpected ally in the middle of his experiment. But contrary to my wrestling teammates, it appeared that Victor was well-aware of what was happening behind the scenes. At least to some extent.

I was gutted reading those particular pages.

"You're here." Victor stood up as soon as I walked in.

"I just came here to pick up my stuff. I'm leaving. I'm staying at Travis' place."

"Oh, ok." Victor looked at me intensely.

It took him a while to spill the words: "What you did was incredible." He marked another long pause. "You were so fucking brave this morning."

"Thanks."

"I've been talking with Travis for a few days. I realize things have gone too far. I've been trying to make things right. I guess Trav has told you. I... I came out as gay. I feel better now."

I did not reply. Victor was not a victim. He knew what the Coach had been doing, if not all of it, at least, he knew enough to make him an accomplice, if not a direct perpetrator.

"I cannot imagine how you must be feeling right now." He spoke, trying to get closer to me.

He even extended his hand to touch me but I took a step back.

"No, you cannot." I replied bluntly.

I felt the rage boiling inside of me. I took a deep breathe. I did not want to do anything that I would have regretted.

"Have you read the whole thing yet?" He asked, trembling.

"I've already read the parts about you, if this is what you're worried about."

"I did not know he was writing about it. I swear!" Victor defended himself.

"You mean, you did not know you could get caught."

Again, tears in his eyes. What a pussy, I thought.

"It's not what I meant! I meant that I did not know the scale of it. He told me that I should help him, he promised that..."

"You could have me sucking your dick if you did things right?"

"I... I know it was all wrong... But... I..."

"You, what? You're in love with me? Your intentions were good? That's it?"

"Fuck, Scott!"

"Just tell me!"

"You know that's true. You know that I am in love with you. Since freshman year, from the first time I've ever seen you. I know what I did was wrong, but you have to believe me. Coach made it seem ok! It made it seem like it was impossible to resist the opportunity. You would have never agreed to do anything with me... But the Coach told me that you were changing, you know how that man could be persuasive, I saw you were becoming someone else, and I.. I thought there would be hope..."

"Hope?!" I was flabbergasted by this choice of word.

"I mean... If you got used to sucking dicks, maybe you would want more... I just... I've been wanting you for so long..."

"Oh My God, Victor! Are you hearing yourself?! What the hell have you been thinking?!"

"I... I don't know... I'd do anything. I did anything I could to have you. If it can make you feel any better, I explained the whole thing to Travis yesterday to help you out. I went with him this morning to confront the Coach! I swear."

"What do you want from me?"

"I... I just hope we can at least remain friends."

This time, I was the one getting closer to him, so close, I was almost touching his cheeks with my lips. I whispered very slowly in his ear, weighing every word:

"Be glad that I've only broken your nose, Victor. Travis had warned you about everything in January. He had asked you to protect me. But you sided with the Coach. Because what? You wanted your shot with me? You could not miss of the opportunity of having the guy you've been fantasizing about, submitted to you? That's not love, Vic. That's perversion, that's sickness."

I approached his mouth even more. I was almost kissing him when I said:

"You may think you love me but I despise you, Victor. I fucking hate you."

He remained there, standing, completely stunned. At least, he stopped fucking crying.

It was the last time I ever talked to Victor. He left the room so I could pick up my stuff. We were done.

I let go of my hatred for him since then. He does not worth it.

I have heard that he is now fully out. Apparently, a paparazzi had spotted him on a gay beach with Damian a few weeks ago. Who would have thought? This was yet another scandal in our now very mediatic lives.

If the rumours are true and the two of them are actually fucking, well good for them! I could not care less.

For the record, I have barely spoken to any of my "teammates" since the day of the press conference. We saw each other a couple of times during the trial, Harry was helpful in gathering testimonies but what happened was too fucked-up for any of us to have a normal relationship afterwards.

As I mentioned, I could not really be mad at them for tormenting me, they were probably as much under the influence of the Coach than I was, and I was not fully innocent either.

Did I stand-up for Tom when he was being humiliated by the Coach? Did I stand-up for Amir who was molested regularly by our so-called doctor? Did I stand-up for Damian when Coach Ranson asked me to fuck him in the ass?

No, no, and no.

Still, I could not forget what they have done to me. Damian, especially. It was too twisted and fucked-up.

I only kept in touch with Travis but even this relationship got hurt by the choices I made after the release of the journal. Well, I guess this is not a happy-ending story. How could it be though?

What Coach Ranson and the wrestling staff did to us was simply disgusting and that is about all the lessons to get from this experiment...

Although, I did get rich. You can read the epilogue to know more about that!

[END OF CHAPTER 33]

Epilogue: Wrestling Champion Gone Wild

When I woke up the day after the press conference, the Wrestling Board had been dissolved; Dean Falker had quit; Many other college coaches had been forced to leave their jobs all across the country.

The huge scale of this twisted enterprise is still getting uncovered as I am writing these lines.

Coach Ranson is far from being the only one, and by the look of it, he is a star in his own right for many other perverted assholes of his type.

Many like him are still trying to achieve the same goal: turning straight hunks into slutty bottoms.

The social movement that spurted afterwards to stop this perverted practice needed me as their perfect victim.

The Coach's Journal was the ultimate evidence. There were also video proofs of everything thanks to the Wrestling Team Gone Wild's page. The press conference I had held was impactful for millions. I was at the centre of it all.

Yes, I should have been the voice for hundreds, maybe thousands of other victims.

Yet, nobody knew that I had come to love the taste of jizz so much that I would stop at nothing to search for it on my own...

*

My name is Scott Russel, I am 22 at the time I am writing this story. I have been manipulated, gaslighted, drugged, and coerced into thinking that I was gay by my wrestling Coach, and a large part of the wrestling staff during my sophomore year of college.

Making me believe that I was gay was only a small part of their plan though. To have them satisfied, I needed to become a true cock-addicted slut, to crave having big juicy dicks deep in my throat, or filling my asshole, or both at the same time.

But even that was not enough.

Coach Ranson wanted me for himself. I needed to become fully submissive to him. I was set to be his personal cum dumpster, eager to serve him 24/7.

When I found his journal in his office, it was already too late, I had become all of these things.

For the most part, I still am.

Why sugar-coating it? You have probably seen everything already: the wrestling competitions where I was drenched in jizz, the videos where I would suck dozens of cocks in a row for the Wrestling Team Gone Wild's page, the gangbang, and I am pretty sure you have also seen the X-rated content that I have released afterwards.

I have become a bitch. I am, to this day, still a slut.

Go ahead, judge me! This will not make any difference.

I am well aware that the way I have been handling myself following the events of last year have shocked and troubled the general public. Despite the release of the Coach's journal, people continue to doubt the reality of my own experience.

I have heard and read it all:

"It's obvious that he was a fag from the start! Just look at him!"

"Have you seen his ass?! It was designed to be banged by big dicks! Coach Ranson is innocent!"

"No straight guy can suck a cock with that much devotion! That dude has always been a queer."

"That whole manipulation story is clearly a scam to promote his porn! A basic but clever marketing plan."

Frankly, anyone can believe whatever help them sleep better at night.

However, I will not let Ranson and Peterson rewrite the story without, at least, sharing mine. That is, in the end, the whole point of this book. I heard Ranson using my recent porn movies as a way to defend himself during his trial yesterday.

What a sick perverted joke!

"This might not have been ethical to shoot this footage back then, but the boy has clearly loved every second of it! He was even begging for it! Have you seen his latest film: Infamous wrestling star VS 50 big black cocks? Come on, check it out. It has been released only a few days ago! Can you really tell me that I could have made a straight man do this, become this sort of depraved slut?"

I did not think that my performances as a gay Pornstar would ever be shown inside of a Court... But I guess there is a first for everything!

Ranson pointed at the laptop screen in front of the Judge, it was a shot of my gaping asshole, already coated with cum and ready to get fucked again by a huge black stallion, while I was sucking two dicks at the same time.

"Look at his face while he's being sodomized! Look, right here, your Honour! Scott Russel loves taking cocks in the ass! I clearly gave him a favour by helping him uncover his true nature! The boy should be grateful."

If you are attentive enough, you will hear the hint of pride in Coach Ranson's voice as he says that to the Judge. He knows that he has indeed managed to turn a straight boy into whatever I am today.

Good for him.

He can go run conversion camps... Once he'll get out of prison!

Yes, I am doing porn. Yes, I am still taking cocks in the ass. And so fucking what!?

Was I supposed to remain a victim all of my life? Was I supposed to do everything, go through every step, to become "myself" again? What would that even mean?