A Coach's Persuasive Motivation

My lip started to quiver, I couldn’t help it I was just so humiliated standing there naked, staring down at Brian, knowing a dozen pair of eyes were laughing at me. When I wasn’t impersonating a kangaroo in the headlights I guess I was what most people would be called good looking. Not as toned as the rest of the team, I had some muscle under my pale skin, a light covering of hair on my chest and tummy and above my uncut cock, which was currently betraying me in the worst way imaginable: standing at attention for the world to see. I started to turn, to run, to crawl into oblivion, to do anything to get away from – coach squeezed my shoulder. He was firm, commanding with just his touch and as I glanced at him, he smiled reassuringly at me. I bit my bottom lip, a nervous habit of mine, and he turned his attention to Brian.

“Didn’t I see your name put forward for Captain of this team Brian?”

“Yes coach.”

“Well what I expect in a Captain is pretty simple young man. I expect leadership; I expect the ability to control the team when on the pitch; to motivate the team when at training; to settle the scores that need settling when I’m not around; and to be there for each and every member of this team. You really think you can handle that?” Brian cleared his throat, and stood as Coach continued, “In short, I expect a Captain to use the carrot and the stick to get the very best out of this team.”

“Yes Coach.” Coach reached back into his pocket and held up a small key for everyone to see.

“This is the key to Peter here’s cage. Since you obviously can’t get that on now, why don’t I leave this key with you and we’ll see how good of a Captain you can be. You have one week to get off the bottom of the ranking Brian, I’ll leave it to you whether you use the carrot,” Coach smiled just a little, “or the stick.”

Coach let go of me and I ran straight to the nearest cubical, shut the door and tried to hold myself together. I breathed. That was about all I could manage, the shame and fear roiling around inside me allowed no room for anything else. Outside I heard the rest of the team finish showering and pack up. I waited until I couldn’t hear anyone, till I was absolutely sure I was alone before I opened the door. I didn’t take two steps out of the cubical before I stopped short, Brian was sitting on the benches on the far side of the room, right next to my gear. He looked up at me and I just stared, mouth slightly open, still naked while he sat there in jeans and a teeshirt. I thought he was going to kill me but he just reached over and chucked my towel at me with a grin.

“That was pretty crazy eh.” I kinda just stood there holding the towel to my chest, not quite believing this was the same arrogant jock from earlier.

“Look, the way I see it Peter, there’s two ways we can play this. You can quit, and go about your studies hoping never to run into those boys again and put this down as one really, bad day. Or, you can put this on,” he held up the cage, “and I can help you train your butt off this week and show those boys what you can do.”

“I, um, I guess, I,” I stammered and for the second time today, Brian came up to me, knelt before me and ripped my towel away. Without ceremony, he slipped the cool metal of the ring over my balls and pulled my foreskin, fully covering the head of my blessedly soft dick through the ring. I could feel myself start to grow but Brian was calm and quick as he fitted my cage, and as the lock clicked shut I started to swell and strain against it. Brian took the cage in one hand and jiggled it a little. In an abstract sort of way it occurred to me that I should be freaking out about now, standing naked before a fully clothed man who was jingling my now caged cock. Hell, before tonight the closest I’d come to another boy was my imagination and the internet – a lot of internet! I should have been freaking out but the way Brian was so sure of himself, the way he seemed so comfortable I didn’t feel like I needed to run anymore.

Brian stood and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning back on the pitch, 6am you got it?”

“Yes Captain.” Shit! That sounds weird, I thought to myself but Brian grinned.

“Here’s hoping hey. You be a good boy for me and work your butt off for me, so I can show Coach what I can do and I will be.” He winked at me as he left the change room, leaving me at last, alone and I think I fell stupidly, ridiculously in love. How cliché is that eh? Gay guy falls in love with the hot jock so far out of his league it’s not funny. Okay fine, so in the cliché the boy isn’t usually wearing a chastity cage and the jock isn’t usually the keyholder, but you get the idea.

5:50am found me cold and tired standing on the pitch. I’d wanted to be early but the extra sleep was seeming to be a better and better use of my time. Wearing grey trackies and a hoodie I was still jumping from side to side to try and warm up.

“You’re early. That’s good.”

“Good morning Captain.” Brian grinned again and I thought I’d drown in that smile. “Let’s get going boy.” And we took off around the oval, starting to warm up as we ran. What followed I would normally have grumbled about: push ups, burpies, squats, and any number of ungodly activities for this early in the morning. But normally, I wouldn’t have been doing them next to the hottest guy I’d ever met, also in trackies but having stripped down to a tank top so his arms bulged impressively. When we started doing sit ups, he stood on my toes and every time I came up, came distressingly close to see the outline of Brian’s cage underneath the fabric of his track pants. My own cage began to feel tighter and tighter and I reached down unthinkingly to rearrange myself. The smile on Brian’s face showed he knew exactly what he was doing to me. We kept doing sit ups for a really long time. Then at one point when I least expected it, he dropped his pants, as I noticed an evil grin on his face. Now every time I did a sit up, I ended up with my nose practically touching his dick. I faltered, unable to tear my eyes off of his perfect, soft, caged dick until he cleared his throat and gestured for me to continue. If my own cage was uncomfortable before, it was quickly becoming my own worst enemy.

When we at last hit the showers, I was exhausted, sweaty and ached everywhere. I tried not to stare as Brian stripped down next to me but, damn!

“Man, I hate this cage,” Brian groaned, looking down. “I wanted to jerk off so badly last night and it’s like because you can’t you think about it more and then – gah!”

“Sorry Captain.”

“I know boy. I know you didn’t mean to bring us down, it’s just - ” I felt my shame start to rise with my colour. “But maybe you could make it up to me.” In an existential sort of way I realised I was acting a love-struck puppy but in a horny-caged-submissive sort of way I realised I didn’t care at all as I relied,

“Yes Captain. I’d really like that, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to make this happen.”

“Hmm, good boy.” Shame melted into pride with those two little words. Brian reached down into his bag and pulled out his track pants, singlet and jock strap and chucked them over to me.

“Why don’t you start with these. Training same time tomorrow, bring them back fresh for me boy.” I started putting the sweaty, musky clothes in my bag. I could handle a bit of washing if it meant Brian thought I was a good boy… player, I mean a good player. As I did, the jocks slipped through my arms and fell to the ground. I went to pick them up Brian stopped me,

“No hands for those boy.” I stared at him, “we both know you want to get closer to them, so I’m telling you, no hands when you’re touching those.”

Brian held my eyes as I silently knelt, slowly put one hand on the cool tiled floor and lowered my head to his jock. The smell intoxicated me. Sweaty but in a fresh, manly way. I breathed in deeply and finally, hesitantly took the strap of the jock in my mouth, coming up like a puppy who had been in his owner’s underwear draw. I know I must’ve looked ridiculous but of all things, my cock started to grow, pressing firmly against my cage, begging for attention. Brian reached down, still locking my gaze and with two fingers, took the fabric of the crotch section of the jock and pressed it against my lips, holding it there, pressing slightly against my lips. I yielded and opened my mouth and he fed me his sweat stained jock strap.

“Good boy. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Find out what happens next in chapter 3.

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