Brandon the Jock Swimmer

by Jock Cummings

5 Jul 2024 2404 readers Score 9.6 (31 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Thank you for the kind ratings and emails from the inaugural story of Brandon's adventures.
Here's Chapter 3! I really enjoyed writing this one! There's a lot more chapters to cum! 💦

As always, I love all comments, feedback and conversations!
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After that eventful evening with Mr Thompson's old ugly friends, Brandon's swim times improved and he was beating his personal bests at every go. 

Days later, in the dimly lit office, Coach Thompson's voice was a steady, persuasive hum. "Brandon, you trust me, don't you?" he asked, his eyes fixed intently on the young swimmer. 

"Yes, Coach," Brandon replied, his gaze unfocused, his body relaxed in the chair. 

"Good. Now, I want you to listen carefully. Your swimming has improved remarkably, hasn't it?" 

"It has," Brandon murmured, nodding slowly. 

"And you believe this is because of our sessions together?" Coach Thompson leaned closer, both his rotund frame and presence dominating over Brandon . 

"I do." 

"Excellent. To further enhance your performance, I have a new task for you. It will seem unusual at first, but trust that it's part of your training. You will volunteer as a model for an art class. This exposure will help you relax and focus more during competitions. Do you understand?" 

Brandon blinked, processing the instructions. "I understand, Coach." 

"Perfect. Remember, every command I give is for your benefit. You will feel compelled to follow through with this, not out of obligation, but because it feels right. You will embrace this opportunity eagerly." 

Brandon nodded, his eyes still glazed with the lingering effects of the hypnosis. "Yes, Coach." 

"This class is held at a senior citizen center, out of town. It's a perfect opportunity to showcase your volunteer spirit, which will undoubtedly impress any scholarship committee," Coach Thompson explained, his tone implying that this was more than just a suggestion. 

"Mr. Steamback, the owner of the center, has personally requested you because, as he put it, 'you are the epitome of perfection for artists to capture.' "You remember Mr. Steamback, don't you, Brandon? Few nights ago, he really enjoyed your body," Coach Thompson said, his voice low and suggestive, a sly grin playing on his lips. 

Brandon's brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to recall the memory. "Yes, I remember him," he replied, his voice steady but distant. 

"Good. Embrace this role, Brandon. It feels right, doesn't it?" Coach Thompson pressed, his tone persuasive, almost hypnotic. 

"Yes, Coach," Brandon murmured, his voice calm and compliant feeling a strange compulsion to fulfil this new directive. "It does feel right."

"Good. Remember, every part of this is designed to elevate your performance. You will eagerly look forward to this experience, knowing it's essential for your success.”

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Brandon stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way his tank top clung to his muscular torso. He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was perfectly styled for his upcoming art class. This time, Coach Thompson had instructed him to wear something casual yet alluring – jean cut-offs and a tight-fitting tank top. As Brandon adjusted his clothes, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and unease about what awaited him at the senior citizen center.

He left his apartment and made his way to the bus stop, his heart racing as he thought about that evening in Mr Thompson's office. The memory of the old men's hands and tongues on his body constantly replayed in his mind and instantly made his cock twitch. He felt strange but he knew that he had to obey Coach Thompson's commands.

As he boarded the bus to the senior center, Brandon noticed a balding obese man about late 40s with thick glasses sitting near the back. The man looked up as Brandon approached, eyes lit up and a smile spreading across his face. Much to Brandon's dismay, the man scooted over, making room for him to sit down. Brandon felt the need to sit next to him.

"Hello there," the man said, his voice raspy and wheezing. "I take this bus all the time and I never see you before."

Brandon smiled weekly and kept quiet. However, Brandon couldn't help but feel both intrigued and repelled by the obese man's interest in him. He decided to play it safe and keep the man at arm's length, offering vague responses to his eager questions.

Rupert, the obese older nerd, continued to bombard him with personal questions, desperate to know everything about him. It was clearly apparent that Rupert found Brandon irresistible and couldn't control his desire to know more about this mysterious young man who had suddenly appeared in his life. Rupert then tried the simplest of questions. "So where are you headed?"

Coach Thompson's words suddenly echoed in Brandon's mind, urging him to submit to his desires. It was as if the coach's voice had triggered some primal instinct within Brandon, making it impossible for him to resist any advances from old men.

Brandon finally gave in and replied, trying to sound friendly. "I'm on my way to an art class."The obese man's eyes lit up at the mention of the art class. "Oh, really?" he asked, leaning in closer. "I love art. What kind of class are you taking?"

Brandon hesitated again, unsure how much he should reveal. "Oh no. I'm the model for an art class for senior citizens," he finally admitted, feeling a wave of excitement mixed with apprehension. The man's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened behind his thick glasses. "No way!" he exclaimed. "That sounds amazing. You are definitely perfect for it. I wish I could go."

Brandon couldn't help but feel flattered by the man's interest, but he also wanted to maintain control over the situation. He suddenly had the notion to tease the obese man while still keeping him at a distance. He knew he looked good and couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence as he flexed his muscles, making them ripple beneath his skin.

He turned around to face the obese man, who was watching him with an almost desperate hunger in his eyes. Brandon decided to have some fun with the situation and slowly raised his arms behind his head, showing off his toned biceps, pecs, and nipples and pits. The obese man's eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets as he stared at Brandon's body, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Brandon smiled to himself, enjoying the power he held over the man. He decided to take things a step further and began to run his hands over his chest, circling his nipples and teasingly tweaking them. The obese man's saliva pooled at the corners of his mouth as he watched Brandon touch himself.

"What are you looking at?" Brandon asked, disgusted he asked that question but enjoying the way the man squirmed under his gaze. The obese man's mouth was agape and his saliva started flowing out, his eyes never leaving Brandon's body. Brandon smiled and continued to tease the man, knowing that he could do whatever he wanted and the man would be powerless to stop him. As the bus pulled up to the senior citizen center, Brandon made sure to give the obese man one last reminder of what he was missing. He stood up and turned around, presenting his backside to the man. He bent over slightly, giving the man a clear view of his tight, round buttocks. The obese man's eyes practically glazed over as he stared at Brandon's perfect backside, his arousal evident in the growing bulge beneath his shirt.

Brandon exited the bus, feeling confused that he did what he did but also pleased with himself for dominating the obese man so easily. As he made his way into the senior citizen center, he couldn't help but anticipate the next part of Mr. Thompson's plan. What awaited him inside? And how far would he go to please the old men and fulfil the perverted desires of his hypnotist coach?

Brandon cleared his head from the bus encounter, entered the senior citizen center and walked into the art room. The walls were adorned with various paintings and sketches, most of which featured nude men in provocative poses. Brandon thought that to be a bit peculiar. Still, he felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as he scanned the room, and saw that the room was full of old men gathering around easels, their eyes fixated on him.

Brandon's eyes darted around the room, landing on two short, pudgy older men in their late 50s. One he vaguely recognized from that evening at Coach Thompson's office, where his body had been explored by eager hands. The other man, flamboyantly dressed in a garish sequinned coat, stood with an air of confidence in the center of the room. Upon spotting Brandon, both men gestured wildly for him to join them. 

Mr. Steamback approached Brandon with a lustful grin, his hands immediately finding their way to Brandon's biceps and shoulder. "Ah, Brandon, my boy! You look even more delectable than I remember," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo as he reminisced about their previous encounter. "That night was quite... invigorating, wasn't it?" 

Brandon felt a mix of discomfort and compliance under Mr. Steamback's touch, his mind echoing Coach Thompson's commands. "Yes, Mr. Steamback," he replied, his voice steady despite the churning emotions inside him. 

"I have someone I want you to meet," Mr. Steamback continued, grabbing Brandon's biceps and shoving him towards the man in the sequinned coat. "This is Mr. Jenkins, an esteemed artist and a dear friend. He's very much looking forward to capturing your... essence." 

Mr. Jenkins extended a hand, his eyes roaming over Brandon's physique with undisguised appreciation. "Pleasure to meet you, Brandon. Your coach has told me so much about you. I must say, looking at you, you are a true muse," he said, his voice smooth and suggestive. 

Brandon shook Mr. Jenkins' hand, feeling the weight of their expectations. "Thank you, Mr. Jenkins," he responded softly.

The effeminate art teacher then proclaimed. "Ah, Class! Welcome Brandon! Brandon, please, remove your clothes and take a seat on the podium."

Taken aback by Mr. Jenkins' proposition, Brandon could feel his heart racing in his chest. "Strip?" he echoed, unsure if he had heard correctly. "You want me to pose nude for the class?"

Mr. Jenkins feigned a look of puzzlement before responding, "Well, my dear boy, we are drawing nudes today. It's quite essential for an artist to study the human form in all its glory." His eyes roamed hungrily over Brandon's toned body as he placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. Mr. Steamback chimed in, his voice laced with anticipation, "Indeed, Brandon. Your coach has prepared you well for this moment. Embrace it. You know it feels right." He gave Brandon a reassuring pat on the back, though his eyes betrayed a predatory gleam.

Brandon hesitated, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension rising within him. He knew that Mr. Thompson had instructed him to do whatever these old men asked of him, but stripping down in front of an open room full of old men seemed like a step too far.

The class full of old men began to chime in, their voices laced with desire and eagerness. "Oh yes, please do, young man," one of them pleaded, his eyes fixated on Brandon's body. "We promise to be gentle and respectful." Another man chimed in, "We just want to appreciate your beauty, Brandon. It would be an honor to draw your naked form." The other old men nodded in agreement, their gazes locked on Brandon's body.

Mr. Jenkins leaned in close, his hot breath smelling of candy as he whispered, "You know you want to do this, Brandon. Embrace your desires and let these gentlemen admire your beauty."

Brandon felt his resolve weakening under the weight of their collective gaze. The hypnotic suggestions from Mr. Thompson echoed in his mind, urging him to submit to his desires. With a deep breath, Brandon began to peel off his clothes, starting with his tank top. The old men watched intently, their eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin. Next, Brandon slipped off his jean shorts, revealing his tight briefs that were stretched to their limit by his growing erection. The men let out a collective gasp as they took in the sight of Brandon's barely contained arousal.

Mr Jenkins was not going to allow Brandon to stop. "Oh my, you are simply stunning," Mr. Jenkins whispered, his eyes lingering on Brandon's chest. "Now, please remove your underwear so the gentlemen can begin sketching you."

Brandon hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and slid them down his legs, revealing his fully growing veiny cock, bouncing a few times hypnotically. The men couldn't hide their excitement any longer, and they began to applaud and cheer as they beheld Brandon's naked form.

Mr. Jenkins stepped forward, his eyes devouring Brandon's naked form. "You are truly a work of art, my dear boy," he murmured, tracing a finger along Brandon's chiseled abs, causing the young man to shiver under his touch. Simultaneously, Mr. Steamback positioned himself behind Brandon, who was seated naked on the couch. With a sly grin, he placed both hands on Brandon's nipples, gently rolling them between his fingers. "Indeed, your beauty is a gift to us all," Mr. Steamback added, his voice low and suggestive as he manipulated Brandon's sensitive flesh.

Brandon felt a wave of pride, satisfaction and tremendous arousal wash over him as he basked in the attention of the old men. He surrendered to their desires and allowed them to appreciate his naked form, reveling in the adrenalin that came with embracing his primal instincts.

Mr. Jenkins began his class. "Now, I understand that some of you might be a bit shy or nervous about drawing such a fine specimen," Mr. Jenkins continued, looking around the room at the eager faces. "But I want you to remember that this is an opportunity to hone your skills. Brandon here is going to help you become better artists by providing you with the perfect muse. Remember, gentlemen, the key to capturing his essence is to draw what you feel, not just what you see. Don't be afraid to let your imagination run wild. "

Brandon found himself becoming more and more aroused by the intense focus the old men were giving him. Their pencils moved furiously across their canvases, capturing every detail of his body. He couldn't help but feel a sense of power, knowing that he held their attention so completely.

Despite his initial reservations, Brandon soon found himself enjoying the attention of the old men. The heat of their gazes upon him was like a physical touch, sending shivers down his spine and making his hard veiny cock fully erect with excitement.

As the old men continued with their sketches, Mr. Jenkins approached Brandon, his hands lingering on the young man's thighs. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he cooed, running a finger along Brandon's inner thigh. "Just relax and enjoy the attention. These men are going to make you feel like a work of art." Brandon shivered under the teacher's touch, his body responding to the hypnotic suggestions he'd received during his sessions with Mr. Thompson. He felt an overwhelming urge to please the men, to give them whatever they desired.

After several minutes of intense sketching, Mr. Jenkins called for a break, instructing the men to put down their pencils and step away from their work. "Take a moment to appreciate Brandon's form, gentlemen," he said, gesturing towards the young man. "You've made excellent progress so far. But now it's time to take your artistry to the next level."

"I want each of you to take a turn feeling Brandon's body," Mr. Jenkins continued, his gaze never leaving Brandon's face. "Explore every inch of him, from his shoulders to his toes. Let's show our appreciation for this magnificent specimen of manhood."

Brandon froze as he pondered the meaning of Mr. Jenkins' instructions. He felt Mr. Jenkins's hands caressing his shoulders from behind. "What's wrong, Brandon?" he asked with a gentle smile, running his fingers through Brandon's hair. "Consider this an opportunity for deeper understanding, Brandon," Mr. Jenkins murmured, his voice smooth and persuasive. "These artists need to feel the contours of your muscles, the texture of your skin, to truly capture your essence on paper. It's all in the name of art, my dear boy."

Brandon swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing thoughts. Thoughts of disgust but more importantly, thoughts of arousal.

The old men wasted no time in following Mr. Jenkins' command. They rushed to line up, each one waiting for their turn to touch Brandon. The young man lay on the couch, his eyes closed as he surrendered to their desires, Coach Thompson's hypnotic suggestions still ringing in his mind.

Mr Steamback was the first forward, his hands trembling with anticipation. He began by tracing the contours of Brandon's face, marveling at the perfection of his features. His fingers traveled down the length of Brandon's neck, pausing to explore the hollow of his throat, tracing his fingers across his pronounced collarbone before moving on to his chest. As the man caressed Brandon's chest, the young man felt a shiver run through him. Brandon felt the old man's nimble fingers dancing over his chest, tracing each contour and crevice with an artist's precision. The man seemed to be particularly fascinated by Brandon's nipples, spending what felt like an eternity flicking, tweaking, and kneading them as if they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe.

The sensations were electric, sending shivers down Brandon's spine and igniting a fire in his loins. He gasped as the man increased the pressure, twisting his nipples deftly. The discomfort only served to heighten Brandon's arousal, making him keenly aware of every touch, every breath, every heartbeat. Brandon felt himself growing harder by the second, his cock throbbing and bouncing as it became engorged. He couldn't help but squirm under the old man's touch, his body begging for more.

Suddenly, the man stopped, leaving Brandon hanging on the precipice of pleasure. With a sly grin, he looked up at Brandon and nodded towards the other men in the room. "I think it's time we shared the wealth," he said, his voice thick with desire.

The second man in line took his place, his hands roaming over Brandon's abs and hips. He squeezed the young man's flesh, reveling in the solid muscle beneath his fingertips. The man's breath grew ragged as he explored Brandon's body, his own desire mounting with each passing moment.

The next old man almost shoved the second man away. This man was a tall and wiry gentleman with a long white beard and he wore a cardigan sweater and tweed pants. He knelt beside Brandon and began running his hands gently over the young man's chest, marveling at the smoothness of his skin and the definition of his muscles. As he traced the contours of Brandon's abs, he leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling Brandon's stomach. Pretending to be short-sighted, the old man moved in too close to Brandon's neck, making the young man shiver with anticipation. His hands continued to explore, moving lower to cup Brandon's balls, gently massaging them before taking hold of his hardening cock slyly giving a moaning Brandon slow and deliberate strokes.

Mr Jenkins had to chase him away.

It was the now turn of a stockier old man with a round belly who wore a loud Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, revealing a pair of hairy legs that contrasted with Brandon's smooth, toned limbs. He eagerly climbed onto the couch, wedging himself between Brandon's legs, his hands immediately grasping the young man's thighs. The stocky old man began to inspect and fondle his way up Brandon's legs, taking his time to savor every inch of skin. When he reached Brandon's groin, he paused, looking up at the young man with a mischievous grin before placing his face right next to Brandon's cock. The old man's hot breath made Brandon's member bounce, accidentally slapping the Hawaiian shirt old man's lips in the process.

The next old man in line was a slender gentleman with thinning hair and glasses that rested on the tip of his nose. He wore a tweed jacket with suede elbow patches and carried himself with an air of scholarly intelligence. He observed Brandon carefully, taking mental notes of the young man's beauty before joining him on the couch. The scholarly old man began by inhaling Brandon scent, his nose trailing along Brandon's inner thighs, working his way higher until he reached the young man's balls. He took one in his hand, gently clasping and massaging it while his other hand caressed Brandon's perineum. As Brandon moaned with pleasure, the old man used a finger to circle Brandon's virgin hole and continued to lavish attention on Brandon's balls.

Each old man brought something unique to the table, their individual styles and techniques combining to create an unforgettable experience for Brandon. The young man found himself lost in a sea of sensations, unable to resist the advances of these experienced gentlemen. Brandon found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything other than the excruciating need to relieve himself. It took him all the willpower not to touch his hard cock there and there.

Mr Jenkins put a halt to the proceedings at the chagrin of the participants. "Now, gentlemen," Mr. Jenkins said, clapping his hands together. "Let's give our model a well-deserved break. We wouldn't want to wear him out completely, would we?" The old men grumbled in protest and reluctantly went back to their seats. Mr Jenkins carried on. "Come now, we mustn't overwork our model. Besides, I have a special treat for him." He winked at Brandon, knowing full well the torment the young man was experiencing.

Brandon's heart raced as he wondered what Mr Jenkins had in store for him. 

Mr Jenkins approached Brandon, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He ran a hand over Brandon's chest, causing the young man to shiver with anticipation. "You've done wonderfully tonight, Brandon," he purred. "But I think it's time we helped you with your little... problem."

Brandon's eyes widened as Mr Jenkins knelt before him, taking Brandon's hard cock into his mouth. The sensation was unexpected and intense, sending waves of pleasure coursing through Brandon's body. He moaned, his hands instinctively grabbing onto Mr Jenkins' shoulders for support.

The old men watched, transfixed, as their teacher pleasured the young model. They couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy, wishing they too could taste Brandon's sweet nectar. But they knew their place, and they settled for watching the erotic display before them, each capturing the moment on their canvas.

As Brandon's moans grew louder, Mr. Jenkins increased the intensity of his ministrations, his pudgy hands fondling Brandon's nipples while he sucked Brandon's cock with gusto, determined to bring the young man to the edge. 

Brandon's body tensed, and he cried out reflexively, "Oh god!" His voice was a mix of desperation and pleasure as he felt his orgasm building. Mr. Jenkins, sensing the impending explosion, intensified his efforts. His lips tightened around Brandon's throbbing shaft, and his tongue swirled expertly over the sensitive head. Each movement was calculated to drive Brandon further into ecstasy, pushing him closer to the edge. As Brandon's moans grew louder, Mr. Jenkins' hands twisted and pinched Brandon's nipples, adding to Brandon's overwhelming experience.

The room was filled with the sounds of Brandon's pleasure, each gasp and moan echoing off the walls as he neared his peak. With a guttural cry, “Arghh…I’m cumming!" Brandon's body tensed and then convulsed as his climax overtook him. His hot seed erupted into Mr. Jenkins' eager mouth, the older man swallowing eagerly, savoring every drop. Brandon's body shuddered violently, each pulse of his release sending waves of pleasure through him that left him weak and breathless.

As the last of his essence was consumed by Mr. Jenkins, Brandon collapsed back onto the couch, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The room was silent for a moment, the only sound the heavy breathing of the spent model and the soft slurping noises as Mr. Jenkins finished cleaning Brandon's cock with his tongue. Finally, Mr. Jenkins stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin on his face. "Well done, gentlemen," he said, addressing the class. "You've all contributed to a most... enlightening session."

The old men cheered and applauded as Brandon trembled with pleasure. Mr Jenkins stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin on his face. "There now, that's better, isn't it?" Brandon nodded, still catching his breath. He couldn't believe what had just happened, but somehow, it felt right. He had given these men a glimpse of youth, and they had given him something he didn't know he needed – a taste of forbidden pleasure.

As the evening came to a close, Brandon dressed and prepared to leave. The old men approached him one by one, thanking him for his time and complimenting his beauty. They knew they would cherish the memory of that night for years to come.

Mr Jenkins and Mr Steamback walked Brandon to the door, grinning from ear to ear. "You did wonderfully tonight, Brandon," he said, patting the young man on the back. "We will definitely see more of you soon."

Brandon smiled, feeling a strange sense of pride and belonging. He knew that he had found a special place in this world, among these old men who appreciated his beauty and vitality.

by Jock Cummings

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