Chapter 5
Alfie was staring at his phone when the text came in. He didn’t have anything else to do since he couldn’t jerk off. Porn wasn’t much fun when you couldn’t get anything out of it, and it never took him much time to get his homework done.
The remainder of the school week after that hideously embarrassing scene where Coach Brady told the team they could use him as a sex slave had ended with regular practices.
Sure, he’d been clunking around in a cage, but no one except Coach Brady knew that, and he’d been careful not to get caught peeking into the shower.
Other than that, it’d been a normal week.
Then Friday night they’d had a game, which they’d lost, and the team had gone out for drinks after, though no one had invited him.
Now it was late Saturday afternoon and he was staring at his phone thinking that all that ruckus with Coach’s announcement and having to write his number on the board had amounted to exactly nothing when the text came in.
Alfie stared at his phone for a while, but no additional texts came in. Not even the word please. Just a stark command with all its suggestion. What should he do about it? He could text back “no thanks.” Or something ruder than that. Or he could ignore it.
Or he could pick up some condoms and go.
Max wanted to fuck him, which wasn’t an outcome he’d expected from becoming the QSU Rhinos’ equipment manager but only because his aspirations had been nowhere near that high.
He’d hoped to catch a faraway glimpse of Max’s cock, not to see it up close and personal, not to have it actually in him.
So while Max’s invitation was neither polite nor romantic, it was still an opportunity to do what he would rather spend his Saturday night doing than anything else he could think of.
He walked to the drugstore for condoms, then called a Lyft and had it take him to Max’s place.
It didn’t seem like he should be the one paying for both the condoms and the ride, given that he was the one providing a service, but then he remembered that Max would also be providing a service in the form of delivering a hard cock to his ass, so he decided not to make an issue of it.
Max lived on the second floor of an apartment building not far off-campus.
At least it wasn’t a frat house. Just him and Max, having a sexy Saturday night together, hopefully without any roommates.
Alfie rang the bell, fidgeting nervously on Max’s welcome mat, which read “FUCK OFF” in big block letters, as he waited what seemed like an eternity for Max to open the door.
From inside, he heard a raucous burst of laughter, which meant maybe Max did have a roommate, and then the door swung open almost violently.
“Hey.” Max was wearing a pair of cutoff sweats that hung low on his hips. His maximally developed chest was bare, his super-toned calves were bare. Even the lower halves of his powerful thighs were bare.
Alfie swallowed.
“You got the stuff?”
Alfie held up the bag from the drugstore. He’d bought lube as well as condoms because he wasn’t sure he trusted Max to know they needed lube. Max seemed awfully heterosexual.
“Excellent.” Max grabbed the bag with one hand and waved Alfie in with the other. “Coach would kill us if he found out we were fucking raw.”
Alfie walked past Max through the short entryway into the main room of the apartment where he found Bruiser lounging on a couch that looked like it was made of denim. He had a beer in one hand and his baseball cap on backward—the perfect picture of a guy named Bruiser.
“Yo, cum dump,” he said, raising the can to Alfie in a friendly salute.
“Thank fuck you’re here.” He dropped his non-beer hand to his lap and squeezed his package lasciviously.
His sweats were full length, and he was wearing a t-shirt, but his guns were on display, reminding Alfie about what Bruiser had said he wanted to do to him.
“I didn’t know he’d be here too,” Alfie said to Max.
“What, you thought it’d be just you and me? It’s not a date.”
Alfie had a little bit been thinking of it as a date.
“Don’t worry,” Max said. “We’re not going to tear your ass up too bad. Bruiser would rather get sucked off.”
“I am going to tear his ass up though,” Bruiser said, giving his package another squeeze. “Can’t fucking wait.”
“Yeah, well, hold off a fucking minute. Lemme be a good host first. Can I take your coat?” Max snickered like he didn’t mean it, but Alfie was getting hot standing there in his coat, so he removed it and draped it over the back of a second couch, this one upholstered in what looked like corduroy.
“Get the little man a beer,” Bruiser suggested.
Max went to the refrigerator and came back with a can, which he handed to Alfie. Alfie popped the top and took a swallow. It was cheap but cold, and he was uncertain about this situation. Between Bruiser and Max, they probably tripled his weight. He was kind of helpless here.
“All right then.” Max slapped Alfie on the back, causing a few drops of beer to spill out of the can onto the stained beige carpet. “Preliminaries over, let’s get to it.”
“He spilled beer on your carpet,” Bruiser pointed out.
Max shrugged. “Whatever.”
“No, he spilled beer on your carpet. He ought to be punished for it.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, sure. Do your thing. I can wait.”
Max settled himself on the corduroy couch, spreading his legs so wide Alfie figured he could probably get a peek at Max’s cock if he got down on the floor and tried. For all his shenanigans in the locker room, Max’s cock was the one he’d somehow never managed to get a clear look at.
“Come here, cum dump,” Bruiser said.
Alfie scowled. He didn’t like that term.
“Are you making a face at me? Max, he’s making a face at me. That’s gotta be extra punishment, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Max agreed easily.
“Also, I told him to come over here and he didn’t.”
“That’s a paddling,” Max said, which Alfie figured was a Simpson’s reference, but what if it wasn’t? Being spanked by Bruiser sounded scary enough. He doubted he would survive being paddled by Bruiser, so he crossed the living room to put himself in front of Bruiser’s couch.
He could just leave. He glanced over his shoulder at the direction he’d come from.
He could turn around and walk out. They probably wouldn’t stop him.
He could quit this job, tell Coach to shove it.
And if Coach wouldn’t take off the cage, he would…
he would go to administration. Obviously staff wasn’t allowed to put students’ dicks in cages.
He kind of wanted Max to fuck him, though, and he didn’t mind giving Bruiser a blowjob either. But shit, he hadn’t thought about the fact that if Max fucked him, then Max would see the cage and know what Coach had done to him. He was wearing a jock again, so if he kept it on, then—
Bruiser didn’t give him time to work through the question of whether or not he wanted this to happen and how exactly he would make sure no one saw the cage if it did. He yanked Alfie’s track pants down, then stared at the jock under it.
“What you got going on in there?” he asked, but it seemed like he knew because he didn’t wait for an answer. Alfie’s jock went the way of his pants, then Bruiser spun him around so he was facing the other couch. “Hey, Max, check it out. Coach has the cum dump locked up already.”
Max was watching SportsCenter and didn’t bother to actually look. “Just as well,” he said. “Don’t need his dick touching anything, least of all me.”
“I guess,” Bruiser agreed. “It’s kind of uncomfortable though.”
“Who cares if he’s uncomfortable?”
“I meant for me. Digs into my thigh.”
“Better than his dick digging into your thigh.”
Bruiser laughed. “Straight up. All right, let’s get you up here. Just tuck that thing out of the way, sort of. Like down there,” he said as he jiggled Alfie around on his lap, “where it’s not trying to dig a hole in my leg. Yeah, okay. That’ll work.”
Alfie was now ass up over Bruiser’s left knee with his cage dangling futilely between Bruiser’s legs.
He’d enjoyed being spanked by Coach, at least at first, but a good part of that enjoyment had come from the way his dick had been rubbing against Coach’s thighs.
He wasn’t going to be able to rub anything in this position.
Bruiser’s dick would be doing just fine though because Bruiser had taken it out of his sweats and tilted it down and under Alfie’s body so it was jammed up against Alfie’s stomach.
Bruiser was already hard, as if just thinking about administering a spanking got him that way and, from the feel of it, his cock was on the large side, much as Alfie had expected.
“That’s a damn fine ass,” Bruiser said appreciatively, though he was talking to Max, not Alfie.
“Well, if you’d hurry up, I could fuck it. What do I care how it looks?”
“It’s going to look red when I’m done with it.”
“I don’t care about that either,” Max said dismissively. “I close my eyes anyway. Easier to imagine it’s a chick’s ass that way.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll be missing out because I’m going to make a work of art out of this ass.”
“So do it already.”
And then Bruiser did. Without any warning at all, he slapped his meaty paw down on Alfie’s unprotected ass.
The smack stung, and the sound was something awful.
Bruiser’s palm was so big, and his arm was so strong, and Alfie was so wholly unprepared, even though he’d been spanked that one time before.
But Coach had warmed him up first, and Bruiser had started at full strength.
Bruiser wasn’t quick about it though. He was enjoying himself too much.
He would lay down maybe four or five sharp swats with the fire in Alfie’s ass building until he didn’t think he could take it anymore, then stop for a minute, using the time to pinch the tender flesh at the top of Alfie’s thighs and make comments about the way his handprints lingered or what color Alfie’s ass was, comments which Max ignored.
Then he would start up again. And though his initial swats had been only slightly harder than Coach’s final swats, each set was harder than the previous one.
If Bruiser had continued straight through, Alfie would have collapsed into incoherent sobs almost immediately, but the breaks gave him just enough time to recover before it all started up again.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Bruiser said during one of his breaks.
“Been too long since I turned an ass purple.” He rutted his cock back and forth against Alfie’s stomach as he stroked the globes of Alfie’s aching ass.
Whether Bruiser was or was not gay, he sure didn’t mind touching another guy’s ass.
But Alfie’s dick hung sadly untouched—and untouchable—in its metal isolation.
He was so fucking horny. For some reason it was even hotter being spanked by Bruiser than it had been being spanked by Coach. Something about the cage or the way Bruiser was rutting against him or maybe it was the breaks, which were intimate, almost sweet. Alfie didn’t want the spanking to end.
But then Max said, “Come on, already,” and Bruiser got down to business.
Break time was over. Now it was go-time, slap after slap after slap, harsher and harsher, until Bruiser was breathing hard and Alfie was crying and begging and squirming.
Then Bruiser stiffened and Alfie felt the hot burst of Bruiser’s sperm jet against his stomach.