Coach paced the room like a caged animal. He picked up a book and hurled it against one wall. He was furious. He had just watched his boys practice baseball, and he was pissed. You know Coach cannot stand a losing team. He cannot stand to come in second. That is one of the reasons he drives his boys so hard. And what he had just witnessed was so pathetic that a knot formed in his stomach and refused to go away. The boys on the baseball team were sloppy and lazy. Undoubtedly, the assistant coach was partly to blame. He had been too easy on them, and he would be soundly punished for his errors. Oh yes, Coach was just as hard with his assistant coaches as he was with his boys.
But today, he had a particular bone to pick with Rodriguez whom the boys called Roddy. Roddy was the new team captain. With leadership come responsibility, and the teams fuck-ups were officially his fault. He looked at Roddy’s photo on his desk, and his thick dick grew harder in his pants. All the boys posed for nude photos at the start and end of each season so their development could be marked.
There was a knock at the door.
“Get your sorry ass in here!” Coach barked.
He really was in a foul mood. The door opened, and a beautiful Latino boy of sixteen entered the office.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
The boy’s voice shook not only from natural teenage juices but also from fear. He knew from the way Coach had stormed off the field that he was furious. Coach grabbed the boy by the neck and threw him onto the floor.
“You fucking asswipe! What the fuck kind of captain are you?” He hauled back one foot and kicked the boy in the belly. You could hear the air being forced out of Roddy’s stomach. “Do you call that baseball practice? Have you no respect for the fine game of baseball? Standing around shooting the shit with your buddies while half-assed catching and no enthusiasm in your running!”
“Sorry, sir, we were taking it a little easy after the weekend run. We ran five miles yesterday, and we’re all pretty sore!”
“I don’t care if you ran fifty miles! You fucked up sissy boy faggot dick ditch! When you are out there on the field you give one hundred and fifty percent, is that clear?”
He kicked the boy again.
“Yes, sir, I won’t forget, sir!”
The poor disheveled boy was so beautiful that it made Coach’s dick hard to kick him around. The boy stayed on the floor, hoping to avoid further abuse, but when Coach got angry, only one thing would ease his furor.
“Get your fucking clothes off now!”
Roddy knew what was coming, but he did not hesitate. To hesitate was to incur more of Coach’s wrath. He threw off his shirt and trousers, and then his shoes. He was soon stripped down to just his underpants and socks. Coach grabbed the boy by the hair and hauled him to his feet. Roddy’s slender and smooth body was almost hairless. He was a fucking treasure.
“I saw you talking to those girls who were sitting in the bleachers all drippy-cunt watching you guys play. What is the first rule of Coach’s Boys?”
“Never speak to cunt, sir.”
The boy’s head was pulled back and Coach spit in the teenager’s face. Huge globs of spit rolled down the soft tan cheeks.
“If the captain of the team gets all hard-dicked and drippy the minute some cunt is hanging around, how the fuck will his team members ever learn? Were you a good example?”
“Sir...ugh.” The boy winced as Coach grabbed a teenage nipple and twisted. “The cunts wouldn’t go away, and I spoke to them to tell them to leave us alone. I thought it was better if I spoke to them than one of the other guys on the team.”
Coach yanked Roddy’s head back until his mouth was wide open and then hawked a huge goober of spit into the kid’s mouth.
“You fucking little liar. You chatted up those twats because your dick loved the attention you were getting. I saw you showing off and grabbing your pecker. You were thinking about fucking those bitches, weren’t you?”
Roddy swallowed Coach’s spit.
“No, sir, I swear, sir. I’m off cunt. I think only about sports, and the team, and serving you, sir.
“When was the last time you shot your load?”
Coach was working both the boy’s tender tits now. He worked them so hard that there could be no sexual pleasure only pain.
“Ow...I...ow…I shot two months ago at the retreat. I shot a load for Mr. Johnson, the trustee.”
“What’s your masturbation schedule?”
“I stay hard six hours a day, sir. I get a hard-on between each class. I masturbate during lunch and after baseball. I double jerk with my partner Brian for an hour each night. Sir, I swear, I don’t think about cunt at all!”
“You’re nothing but a sixteen-year-old piece of trash. I never should have made you captain. You haven’t got what it takes to lead other boys.”
Roddy was crying now. Not from the pain, but from the loss of respect from Coach. Being a captain was what every boy wanted. Roddy knew it would be hard, really hard going in. Worse than the Marines, the boys said. Coach was very hard, but it was worth it. Coach’s boys got scholarships to great universities. They were considered the best of the best.
“And why the fuck are you wearing underpants? Didn’t we tell you boys that we want you hanging free under your trousers?”
“Sorry, sir, it’s just that I drip so much that my trousers keep getting huge wet spots on them even in class.”
“So? That’s your problem. That’s no reason to break a rule! Now get those fucking panties off. And if I ever see you in panties again, you’re off the team!”
The kid was so scared he fell to his knees. Coach slapped the boy as hard as he could, sending the boy’s face to one side. The sound of the slap filled the room. He grabbed the kid by the hair and hauled him to his feet again.
“I told you to strip off those fucking panties.”
The boy stripped off his briefs, revealing the firm, smooth muscular globes of his hard young ass.
Coach’s big dick gave a lurch in his trousers when he saw the boy’s beautiful ass. The kid’s dick was small and shrunken from fear.
“Look at that pathetic dick. You are more cunt than boy. That cock looks more like a clit, it’s so small.”
Coach reached around, grabbed the boy’s slender teenage prick, and yanked it. Roddy screamed in pain. Then Coach grabbed the boy’s fat nuts and squeezed.
“Your ball work on the playing field is rotten. Let me show you how to handle the ball. You keep dropping it because you don’t grab it tightly enough. You got to grab that ball and not let go!”
As he said this, Coach squeezed the poor boy’s scrotum, squashing the delicate teenager nuts. The kid sucked in air and kind of hissed. His eyes grew wide with pain, and Coach spit in his face again. Coach twisted and squeezed the soft young scrotum, pulling it away from the tan smooth boy body. Then he pushed the boy toward his desk.
“You also don’t know how to slide. When you slide, you have to throw your whole body into it.” Coach yelled.
Coach hurled the young boy across his desk. The tender naked teenage body slammed into the wood of the desk, knocking the air out of the boy.
“Turn over onto your back and spread your legs. I am going to beat your nuts with a ruler until they are the size of softballs!”
After he had beaten the boy into a quivering mass of teenage cunt, he would fuck the kid in the ass. That was what Coach had been after ever since he saw the boy on the field.
“I think I feel like a little Latino pussy today,” he had said.
He could have chosen any of the boys. He fucked them all. They all sucked his cock. It was part of the training. They put up with it. But when he was in a foul mood, it was not just a fuck. It was rape. He was going to rape the ass of the sixteen-year-old boy. He was going to ram his huge dick so deep and so hard that it drew blood. He was going to make the boy scream until he was hoarse. Then he was going to pull his dick out and shove his hand up the kid’s ass-pussy.
Roddy had been fucked by lots of the trustees. He was used to the routine. That’s how you got to be captain, but he never got used to the rough sadistic fucks that some of them loved to give. He swore they just loved to hurt boys. Coach picked up a ruler.
“Spread those legs. And I don’t want to hear a sound while I am beating those nuts! Team captains aren’t babies. They don’t squeal like piggies every time it gets a little uncomfortable for them.”
The boy had beautiful baby makers, and Coach was going to enjoy ruining them—whacking them so hard that they swelled up like oranges. Roddy would probably never be able to have children once Coach finished with him, but who the fuck cared?
Coach could hardly wait to get his own huge leaking prick out of his pants and into the boy’s tender ass. First, though, he would make the young Latino colt suck his cock and lick up the dick drip. He would work his fingers into the boy’s cunt and stretch it good. He would then make the brat suck his fingers clean. After fist fucking the boy, he would reach into his desk drawer, pull out a bottle of whiskey he kept there, and shove the bottle up the fucked out pussy. He would make the boy crawl back to the dorms with the bottle up his ass. It would show the other boys that you did not slough off during practice. It would set a good example. It would also show some of the new freshman boys what they could look forward to. Some of that fresh young boy-cunt was so small and delicate that it was torture not to grab them and fuck them right in the school halls. All that fourteen-year-old teenage boy ass in those gray uniform pants. Coach could not wait to get to work on the new boys, and Roddy here would show them what lay in store for boys who fucked up! Coach smiled back at the crying naked boy on his desk. So vulnerable. So beautiful. Perfect!