Some Fiction

Content warning – This piece of fiction contains explicit descriptions of non-consensual sex and some language that might be offensive bcxc6tk. I also feel incredibly silly for writing in the first place and posting it. It’s also being presented with minimal editing and review because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯


The football practice was going well, which meant that Sam and Kyle, the replacement linebackers were bored out of their skulls. None of the coaches had paid them any attention the entire day. Finally, after six hours of sweating on the bench and throwing passes to each other, the assistant coach told them to hit the showers and enjoy the rest of their day.

“I’m gonna get a shower,” mused Sam, to no one in particular. Kyle ignored him and stepped around the corner to where the team’s lockers were.

“What the fuck,” he whispered? Several locker doors were ajar, their contents spilling out onto the floor. At a second glance, it only appeared to be socks, underwear, and jockstraps laying out. A noise from another bank of lockers grabbed his attention and Kyle stuck his head around the edge of the lockers.

“What the FUCK,” he bellowed!

One of the many idiosyncrasies of the school was that the wrestling team had practice at the same time as the football team. This meant that, occasionally, a wrestler would wander into the football side of the locker room, or vice versa, retreating under a fusillade of taunting and jeers.

This was not the case today. In front of Kyle was a wrestler, still clad in his singlet and gear, pawing through one of the football players’ locker. The wrestler of course stopped doing this as soon as Kyle yelled at him, a look of sheer terror crossing his face. In one move, Kyle stepped over to him and slammed him against the locker, one hand wrapped around his throat. Kyle repeated himself: “What the FUCK!?”

The wrestler clawed in at Kyle’s paw-like hand on his throat but it wasn’t any use. He was a talented grappler against people in his weight-class, but he didn’t have a chance against Kyle.

“I was l-looking for my w-wallet,” the wrestler gasped.

“Bullshit.” Kyle shouted. Then it dawned on him. “You’re the one who’s been stealing our jocks!” The wrestler shook his head.

“Come on man…” he moaned.

Sam came around the corner just then, a towel wrapped around his waist. “What’s this,” Sam asked, nonchalantly.

“I caught the jock thief!” explained Kyle.

“You sure about that? He might just be lost.”

Kyle shook his head. “Nah. I can prove it. Grab your jock from earlier.”

Sam wandered off and the wrestler whined pitifully. Kyle swapped the hand he was holding the wrestler in place with.

“What’s your name anyway,” he asked the wrestler. “And don’t lie to me.”

“I- I’m Scott,” he gasped.

Kyle smiled sarcastically. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kyle.”

“I know-ACK!” Kyle crushed Scott’s windpipe slightly, just to remind him who was in charge.

“Got it,” Sam said, one hand holding the towel in place and his still-damp jockstrap and cup in the other.

“Give it here,” said Kyle. Sam passed it over and Kyle pressed it against Scott’s face. Scott took a deep breath and seemed to relax immediately.

“Haha, yeah, I think this is our guy. Check it out.” Sam gestured at the boner that was already tenting Scott’s singlet.

“What a fuckin’ fag,” chortled Kyle. He pulled the jock away and slapped Scott across the face.

Kyle turned to Sam. “What should we do with him?”

“Just lemme go man, I can pay you-” started Scott, but Kyle rammed a fist into his stomach, sending Scott to the floor gasping for breath.

“Here, hold him down, I’m gonna find some duct tape.” Sam cast his towel aside quickly pinned Scott to the floor while Kyle stomped off.

The custodial closet yielded a roll of duct tape and a hand full of large zip ties. He grabbed everything and returned to where Sam and Scott were.

Sam had Scott in a one-handed armlock and was using his free hand to hold the jockstrap over Scott’s face. Kyle glanced at Sam, who shrugged. Kyle shrugged too and tossed his supplies on the ground.

Kyle thought for a second, then pulled his cleat off, followed by the sweaty sock he’d been wearing for hours. Next, he wrapped the sock around a zip tie before shoving it into Scott’s mouth and zipping it tight, gagging him. Scott moaned deeply and struggled against Sam. Kyle used his other sock to blindfold the wrestler, before the two football players forced him to the floor and used several yards of duct tape to secure his wrists and ankles. Then, Sam grabbed the duct tape and used the rest of the roll to tether Scott’s wrists to his ankles, forcing him into a strict hogtie.

The two stood up to admire their new prize. Kyle used his foot to push Scott over on his side and jabbed his boner with his toe. Scott moaned again and started thrusting slightly.

“He’s not hating it is he?” Joked Sam. Kyle laughed. “Nah, but I feel like he’s getting everything he wants, y’know? Like, what’s in it for me?”

“Well, I’ve got an idea…”


An hour and some heavy lifting later, Sam and Kyle had managed to get Scott into the basement of Kyle’s off-campus house. Sam had explained his solution in the car on the ride over. “The way I see it,” he said, “is that the fag owes us for all those jockstraps he stole.” He swerved to drive over a pothole, and was rewarded with a muffled yell from the trunk of the car.

“So, I think he can work off that debt the old-fashioned way.” Kyle looked at him quizzically before it dawned on him what Sam was suggesting. It had been a long time since he’d gotten a decent blowjob after all. He could feel his dick starting to swell, constrained by his jockstrap and cup. He hadn’t had time to change out of his practice gear, and was still wearing his full gear. Kyle mindlessly pawed his dick into a more comfortable position and Sam laughed.

“Looks like you like that plan too, bro.”

The wrestler was laying sideways on an old mattress Kyle hadn’t gotten rid of yet. The gag was completely soaked through, a line of drool forming a small pool under his head. Sam wandered off, muttering something about a test he had to study for, leaving Kyle alone in the basement with Scott.

Kyle watched him for a while, writhing around on the mattress, grunting occasionally as he tried to free himself. This was a new feeling for Kyle, having this much control over someone. It helped that Scott was well-built and surprisingly muscular for his size. And the wrestling singlet did a good job of outlining his chest and abs…

Scott was whimpering into the gag again, trying to speak. Kyle ignored him and instead grabbed a pair of pliers off the work bench, which he used to cut the tape binding Scott’s ankles to his wrists. Before Scott could stretch his legs out and get comfortable, Kyle hauled him up by his arms so he was kneeling in front of him. He used the pliers to cut the zip tie holding the sock in Scott’s mouth. Kyle yanked the soggy mess out and toss it on the floor next to the mattress. Scott immediately started begging again.

Kyle ignored him as he yanked the cup out of his jockstrap and held it against Scott’s face, which shut him up immediately. With his free hand, Kyle undid the lacing on the front of his football pants and pulled his dick out. Scott started struggling and trying to speak again, so Kyle slapped him across the face again.

“Shut the fuck up, fag” he growled at Scott. “This is more fun for you than it is for me, so just shut the hell up and enjoy it.” Scott gulped once and nodded. Kyle patted the side of his head. “Good boy.”

Kyle’s dick was still semi-hard and Scott’s mouth was open, so that part was easy. Kyle stuffed his dick into Scott’s mouth and Scott got to work without being prompted, expertly working his tongue over the head while his lips massaged the shaft. “Ah fuck” murmured Kyle as he slowly edged his dick deeper down Scott’s throat until he gagged on it. Kyle pulled out immediately and stroked himself, using Scott’s spit as lube. Scott gulped down several lungful’s of air and waited for Kyle to resume.

This was repeated several more times until Kyle was ready to blow his load. He didn’t even bother warning Scott, he just used the straps of Scott’s ear protectors to hold his head in place while his dick blasted several frustrating weeks worth of cum into Scott’s mouth.

“Holy fuck,” gasped Kyle. He used his free hand to brace himself against the wall while he caught his breath. “Heh. I knew you were a fuckin faggot. You better swallow every drop of that. And clean off my dick when you’re done.”

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