Long Road to Submission

He was twenty miles outside of Bentonville when the tire blew. The back roads that tended to dominate this part of the country were known for the junk strewn on the shoulders, broken bottles, scrap metal, and the assorted nails and screws littered the rumble strips and patches of grass that crept into the pavement. Trey Hotop didn’t know what he hit, he was too focused on not crashing to give it a second thought. He only cared about starting his first semester of college on the right foot. He had gotten a full-ride wrestling scholarship, he was studying sports medicine with a minor in film, everything had been set up, and a blown tire was not part of the plan. Only once he maneuvered the car to the side of the road did he have time to be pissed at the situation.

He leaned against the passenger side door, staring out into the dense woods while he contemplated what to do next. The tow truck had been called, and his parents back in Utah had been informed and would be taking care of the insurance, all he could do was wait. Which is what he did. Late August in southern Missouri was murder. Even with the air-conditioner running during the drive he was damp. Now, sitting outside with the sun beating down on him, he was positively melting. Trey was used to the outdoors, his family owned a generous amount of farmland near the Colorado border and, while not the most outdoorsy kid, he knew how to handle himself. He could stand the heat until he got the tow he was waiting on, it didn’t mean he’d have to like it.

He peeled off his tee shirt, revealing the top of an old white wrestling singlet clinging to his chest. With the amount of sweat Trey was producing it was almost transparent and glinted in the sun, showing off his slim torso that bulked out at his shoulders and arms. He’d been wrestling since he was a kid and now that he was older he found comfort in the uniform. It gave him a sense of security and most days he wore it under his clothing. He also just looked really good in it, which he liked. He grabbed the straps by his shoulder and pulled away, the spandex peeling off of him for a moment as fresh air washed across his chest and stomach. He sighed, it was scorching out here, not a single car had come by since the blowout. The spandex snapped back into formation around his chest, sweat splashing on impact. Trey got tired of standing and slid into the passenger seat. He squirmed in the seat, trying to get comfortable before sliding his shorts off, now only in his singlet and shoes. Finding some comfort now he relaxed, his hands resting on his crotch. He never really knew what to do with his hands while resting, if they hung at his sides the weight felt weird and if he crossed his arms then people thought he was mad at them, so most of the time they rested in his lap. His lap that was now covered in moisture.

His hands accidentally brushed his dick and a spark of desire shot through his body. He could feel his dick begin to shift under the singlet as it grew. Trey didn’t make a habit of masturbating. His parents weren’t Mormon but the Utah culture seeped through and it wasn’t ever something that was discussed at his house. But he wasn’t at his parent's house anymore, and even before he left, he knew he’d be living a little bit more once he got to college. Slowly Trey began rubbing his dick through the singlet, running his hand back and forth over the bulge with the utmost care as it shifted and grew under the spandex. Desire coursed through him and he let out a soft moan and his dick stretched to its full seven inches, bulging mightily in the uniform.

He did a quick 180 to make sure he was still alone on the road, but nothing. He wrapped his hand around his cock in the fabric and began jerking a slow, consistent rhythm with plenty of pressure on the shaft. The heat beating down on his skin, the sweat seeping into the spandex, it was driving him wild, he needed release. The stroking quickened, his dick was throbbing with anticipation, now soaked in sweat and precum that leaked through the fabric. He let out a loud moan as he stopped holding back and allowed the orgasm to come crashing down on him.

His whole body jerked as his cock released the first load all over his stomach and singlet, ropes of cum ejecting as he writhed in pleasure, panting and moaning. The sticky sweet spunk absorbed into the already drenched fabric, the rest ran down his body and collected at his waist. He jerked a few more times to release the last few drops before relaxing his body and letting out a long exhale. He was sweaty and sticky, but the tension had been released. He ran his hands through his short, blonde hair and processed the orgasm. Then he pulled his shorts on and stepped outside. He could feel his spunk squish as he moved but he didn’t have anything to wipe it up with and so let it dry onto his torso.

The sound of a vehicle began building in the distance. Trey looked back down the road, in the distance the tow truck was barreling towards him. He looked down and remembered that his singlet was essentially transparent and covered in sweat and cum. He reached into the passenger side window and pulled his tee shirt out as the truck pulled up in front of him. The man who climbed out was a few years older than Trey, he had no idea how guys that young were driving vehicles that big but he did not question it.

“You Trey?” The man said, looking at his phone. “Don’t really know who else you could be, nothing else around.” 

“Yeah, that’s me.” Trey moved to shake the man's hand but stopped, remembering what it had been gripping not five minutes before. 

“Well, I’ll get the winch ready, you make sure it’s in neutral and the emergency brake is off and we’ll get you down to Bentonville.”

Trey offered his thanks and did as the man said while he grabbed the winch from the car and hooked it to the front bumper. He slid into the passenger seat, which thankfully had a working air-conditioner, and buckled up. A blown tire wasn’t the end of the world, soon enough he’d be back on track with his day, his college career, and with his life. 

The driver, who later said his name was Chase, was kind enough to drop Trey at his apartment with his things after the car had gone to the mechanic. As part of his full-ride scholarship, Trey was given a one-bedroom apartment within walking distance of campus. When he stepped inside the stale smell of dust and paint greeted his nose. He had to duck through the door frame, in middle school he had a six-inch growth spurt, and by junior year of high school, he stood at 6’ 3”, higher than all of the teachers and faculty. The apartment unit was little more than a sparsely furnished kitchen and dining room area that led into a living room, with doors to a bathroom, closet, and bedroom off to the side, but it was his. He dropped his bags and explored the place. They’d given him all of the basics, a bed, couch, dresser, and table to eat at, anything more would have to come out of his own pocket, and he didn’t plan on working. 

He took a quick shower and changed clothes, stuffing the sweat and cum stained singlet in the back of his closet, to be washed once he figured out where this building kept its laundry. The clothes were unpacked quickly, Trey did not care about fashion and his clothes were mostly non-descript tee shirts and athletic shorts. Additionally, he had no kitchen utensils to cook for himself, something that could not be put off. He made a mental note to go by some pans and knives before realizing he had no idea where the nearest Walmart was. Trey went to the maps app to look it up but was interrupted by a text on his phone from his wrestling coach. They’d only met in person once when he came to scout Trey at a regional meet in Denver, but they’d kept a correspondence of texts and emails that had eventually convinced Trey to commit to BMU (University of Missouri-Bentonville).

COACH: Get into town alright?

Trey: Had some car trouble but got it figured out. Found my apartment ok.

COACH: Good, first team meeting of the season tonight, you need a map to the training facility?

Trey replied that he did and Coach sent a map directing him to where he would be training, the meeting was in an hour so Trey went to his closet and threw on a shirt and shorts that hadn’t been soaked by the Missouri summer sun before departing. He walked quickly, Trey had been told that men who walk with purpose command respect, and though respect wasn’t on his mind he did like getting places quicker. The wrestling facility was an unassuming two-story brick building with minimal signage and two glass doors out front. Trey put his hands to the glass and peered inside, no one was in sight. He tried the handle and the door pulled open easily. He stepped inside, letting the door close behind him.

“Hello? Team meeting here?” He called.

The sound of footsteps began to build and a moment later a guy came in. He was a good six inches shorter than Trey but carried himself with the same confidence. He was built like a barrel, with a thick chest and torso that filled out nicely under his green dri-fit shirt, creating a nice contrast with his short, red hair. The guy held out his hand, Trey shook, surprised at the strength of the grip.

“Name’s Hunter, team meeting is this way.” He turned on his heel and began walking down a hallway. Trey moved to catch up and introduced himself. “You’re the other scholarship guy?”

“I didn’t know getting a scholarship made me the scholarship guy.”

“I got the other one,” Hunter turned around and walked backward as he explained to Trey, “also the freshman squad is pretty small so that stuff doesn’t stay secret for long.”

“Am I the last one here?” Trey asked as Hunter turned a corner.

“Everyone else got here either yesterday or the day before, but you’re not late.”

“Had to drive here from Utah,” Trey replied as Hunter reached a pair of wooden swinging doors. He backed into them, opening up into a large training room of whitewashed brick and brand-new mats that covered the floor. Trey saw that Hunter wasn’t wearing any shoes and quickly removed his footwear before stepping onto the mat.

There were seven other guys his age there plus Coach. Trey towered over all of them and tried not to feel awkward as he joined the impromptu huddle that had formed in the center of the room. Coach directed his gaze to Trey and the rest of the freshman squad followed.

“And now we are eight! Fellas this is Trey Hotop from Colorado, we’re very happy to have him here.”

Then the rest of the team introduced themselves. There was Jared from Connecticut, Marshall who had a chip in his front teeth, Liam who had a habit of chewing the small chain around his neck, Dimitrius who was the only person about as tall as Trey, Aaron, who introduced himself with no small amount of arrogance, Micah who kept his hair in a very messy bun, and Hunter, who never took his eyes of Trey during the entirety of the introductions. There was something about him that caught Trey’s attention too. The way he held himself, how he regarded others around him, and the warmth that he showed Trey guiding him to the training room, all spoke of a deep, ingrained confidence that came as second nature. 

Coach finished up the rest of the team meeting by communicating expectations for the semester, including practices (two a day during the week and one a day on the weekend) competitions (every other weekend, travel required for most) academic expectations (C plus average) and personal conduct (no drinking to drunkenness, absolutely no drugs) it was all standard stuff and no one took real issue with it. Then they were taken to the equipment room for their uniforms. BMU’s singlets were completely black, save for the yellow logo on the chest and the accents down the side. They looked sick as fuck and after measurements, the whole team changed into them for an impromptu sparring practice.

“Is this a good idea?” Jared asked, “I mean we haven’t even had the first practice-”

“Who cares,” Micah said, adjusting his man bun “It’ll be fun.”

“Call it an unofficial bonding exercise,” Hunter added. Trey observed him, in the singlet he was even more captivating, the shoulder straps showing up the counters of his arms and neck, the lower area defining his massive thighs. Trey turned away and adjusted himself. What was going on with him?

“Knock yourselves out if you want to, but that was everything I had on the roster for today. We’ll do weigh-ins at the first practice next week.” Coach said, lifting his clipboard on departure as he left.

They decided on a single-elimination bracket, with matches determined randomly. Trey got paired against Aaron, which wasn’t fair since Trey had about eight inches and thirty pounds on him, but no one argued bothering with it. The match went fast, what Aaron lacked in height and weight he made up for in speed, and he managed to maneuver out of every grapple Trey moved him into. Trey would go for the legs, Aaron would dart out of the way, he grabbed for the shoulder to move into a grapple and Aaron would duck out of reach. After the two periods Trey managed to pull a victory on points, and he and Aaron shook hands with no animosity.

The other three matches flew by in quick succession, and Trey suspected that he’d already gone up against his hardest opponent. Dimitrius, utilizing the same height advantage Trey possessed, easily pinned Micah eighty seconds into the first period. Jared and Marshall spent a good deal of time pawing at each other before moving into a bit of furiously grappling that ended with Jared catching Marshall’s ankle and securing a pin. Hunter, who Trey realized was the smallest guy on the team by at least two inches, managed to secure a victory on points against Liam by escaping every time he got put in a hold, which was often. 

The second round, unsurprisingly, proved more difficult. Now up against Dimitrius, Trey had no height or weight advantage and quickly found himself thrown to the mat within the opening seconds, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He sprung up as Dimitrius rushed him, arms entangled and Trey kept pressure to avoid being pushed out of the ring. It went on like that for the rest of the period, the two trading grapples and throws until the alarm sounded and Liam informed them that Trey had received the requisite fifteen points to win, Dimitrius had 13 but took the loss well. The bonding exercise was already working. Hunter and Jared’s match flew by, Hunter obviously took care to study the other matches because when Jared went for the ankle like he had with Marshall Hunter was ready and swept aside, darting behind him and securing a half-nelson before completing the pin within the first thirty seconds. Trey marveled at his speed and ability to turn his size disadvantage into his greatest asset. Then it was their turn.

Hunter didn’t even bother to leave the mat, just bounced back and forth on his feet and beckoned for Trey to join him. He stepped into the mat and faced Hunter.

“You really deserved that scholarship huh,” Hunter said, wiping the sweat from his eyes. His red hair had fallen from the top of his head and now rested just above his eyebrows. He gave Trey a cockeyed smile which made his stomach do something weird.

“So do you.” He replied, choking on the words.

“Y’all gonna talk or get going?” Liam called out, holding his phone for the timer.

Hunter stopped moving and stuck out his hand for Trey to shake. He returned the gesture and Marshall clapped his hands for the round to start.

From the get-go it was brutal. They’d both had time to observe the other's technique and had a pretty good idea of how to exploit it. Hunter went for the joints, leveraging momentum to keep Trey’s center of gravity always moving. He stumbled and almost toppled over, as he righted himself Hunter ducked and rushed his leg, sending him sprawling to the floor, in a flash Hunter had him in a spladle, and before he realized what was happening Hunter's very sweaty bulge was directly in Trey’s face. In the second before Marshall called a point he involuntarily took a giant breath in, the sweaty musk of Hunter’s package, the raging testosterone in the room, for a moment everything blinked out of existence. He felt drops of dick sweat splash onto his cheeks and he gasped. He came back into himself when Hunter went to get up, though, did he shove the bulge in Trey’s face just a little bit as he stood? He couldn’t be sure. What he was sure of was his own growing dick in his singlet. He stood up, still dazed and confused, and readied himself to go again. Hunter’s eyes flicked down to his crotch and he gave a faint smile. 

And that was it for Trey, the entire day, the blown tire, the jacking off on the side of the road. The new apartment in the new town in the new state, it all caught up to him and within the next ten seconds, Hunter secured a pin on Trey. He didn’t even know how it happened, was Trey even tall enough to do that? The rest of his team said it happened so he didn’t question it. Whatever had just happened in that match, the point of the exercise had been proven, the freshman squad was looser around each other, everyone talked easily and there was no tension to be found. 

The group wandered around for a few minutes until they discovered the locker rooms on the bottom floor. A few of the guys made use of the showers while the rest changed to go home. Trey sat in the corner, deep in thought, replaying the day's memories in his head when someone stood right in front of him and snapped him out of it.

“Good game dude,” Hunter said, hands extended, he really was a fan of a handshake Trey thought. He returned the gesture.

“You’ve really got it too dude. Definitely deserved that scholarship.” Trey finished changing into his regular clothes and stood, Hunter craned his neck to make eye contact. 

“You got your phone on you?” Trey produced his phone and unlocked it. Hunter grabbed it without asking, opened up the contacts, and entered his phone number and address. “Come over tonight, we can discuss your technique, got a few tricks I picked up last year that helped me a lot.” 

Trey took a second to process this request and formulate a response. “Yeah, sure, I don’t have anything going on.”

Hunter laughed. “No one does dude, non-athletes don’t get here for another four days. See you later.” And with that, he departed. Trey lingered for a few more minutes before leaving.

Hunter lived in one of the nicer apartments on campus his scholarship hadn’t given him the freedom of housing he’d been afforded. The sun was beginning to go down as he ascended the stairs and knocked on Hunter’s door. A moment later the door creaked open and Hunter’s sea-green eyes poked through.

“Password?”

Trey stood there for a second, fearing he’d missed part of their earlier conversation.

“Just messing with you, one sec.” The door closed, Trey heard a chain unlatch, and Hunter opened the door.

“Come in dude! Just got done furnishing the place.” Hunter gestured to the studio apartment. He was wearing an old high-school wrestling tee shirt cut into a crop top and athletic shorts riddled with holes. Trey tried not to stare without knowing why he wanted to stare. The door he walked into opened into the kitchen, inside which sat a small card table with a single folding chair. The other side of the room looked over a gorgeous view of the BMU football field, where the BMU mules were currently running drills. Hunter had moved his full-sized bed against the window with a television off to the side and a futon against the other wall. Stacks of plastic bins lined any other open wall space, some open and exposing mounds of clothes and what looked to be an extensive book collection, others securely duct-taped shut.

Trey stood in the kitchen as Hunter sat on the edge of his bed. “Come on dude! Didn’t spend all of yesterday just for my first guest to not appreciate all my hard work.”

“It’s nice,” Trey replied.

“It’s decent, for what it is. This is one of the better apartments on campus so I won’t complain.” They pay for your housing?”

“Yeah, I uhh… they gave me this place off campus, smells like cat piss though.”

Hunter gave a low whistle. “Bet it’s bigger than this.”

“Yeah,” Trey replied, “but the cat piss.”

“You know about Febreze, right?”

“I’ve been in town for like, eight hours. I don't know where the target is.”

“Neither do I but it’s got to be somewhere right? Come on, sit!” Hunter gestured to the futon. Hunter took three long steps and sat down, it was so low to the ground that his knees rose to his chest. “Dude you are very tall, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you that before.”

“Really?” Trey feigned ignorance.

“So he can joke! I was beginning to wonder.” Hunter joined him on the futon, Trey became very aware of the space between them.

“You were really good today, by the way.” The bravado that Hunter had held since they had met was gone now, he talked with no pretense, like they were just two guys. Hunter scooted closer, only about an inch but Trey saw it, he did not move.

“You too,” Trey said, and then without thinking, “You had some nice moves that surprised me.”

Hunter raised his eyebrows, just as surprised as Trey was that he’d said it. “I can…” he paused and Trey’s breathing stopped. “Show you how to get out of that position if you like.”

Trey didn’t move, everything had stopped, this was new for him, not just with Hunter but with anyone. He froze as Hunter slowly got off the couch and, not breaking eye contact, knelt between Trey’s spread leg.

“So, first you have to get into position.” Hunter lowered his face to Trey’s bulge, hovering inches away. He sniffed, long and full before exhaling. Then he moved in and began nuzzling Trey’s crotch. Trey stiffened and let out a moan, there wasn’t any thinking here, he could only go with what his body told him was right. His hands went south and he began stroking his dick. Hunter looked up and took one of Trey’s fingers in his mouth, slowly sucking it. It didn’t give Trey any pleasure but Hunter closed his eyes and let out a high-pitched moan. 

Then Trey had enough of pawing his dick through his shorts and slid them off. Hunter helped get them out of his legs as Trey’s semi popped out, five inches and growing.

“Fuck.” Hunter whispered. He looked up to Trey, who gave only the smallest of nods.

The minute Hunter's mouth closed around his cock Trey felt that he was going to bust then and there. The pleasure that raked his body as the warm wet enveloped his dick was exquisite and he arched his back in reflex, pushing his cock all the way down Hunter’s throat. He moaned around the meat as he worked it. Taking time to play with the tip, then licking his way down the shaft before fondling Trey’s balls. Trey didn’t even know that was something that brought pleasure but the moment Hunter's fingers squeezed he knew he’d need it to happen again. Then Hunter detached himself from the sack and looked into Trey’s eyes, both expressions unreadable, both searching for what this meant, whether it be anything or everything. Hunter then took all seven inches of Trey's dick into his mouth. They felt the tip hit the back of Hunter’s throat and the pressure that was building in his cock nearly exploded.

“I’m gonna cum dude, Jesus I’m about to blow.” He said through gritted teeth. Hunter nodded along with an affirmative sound and picked up the pace. Trey gasped as the orgasm approached, on instinct he rested his hands on Hunter's head, pushing his red hair down and having him take all of his dick as he climaxed, he moaned as the first rope shot its way down Hunter's throat, then another, he could feel the hot, thick strands escape him and he looked down just enough to see Hunter's throat working overtime to swallow it all. 

When at last the orgasm subsided he relaxed, he took his hands off Hunter’s head and he released the dick from his mouth with a long gasp, collapsing on his back on the floor, spit and cum rimming the outside of his mouth and splattering parts of his face. For a moment there was no sound outside of their heavy breathing. Trey slowly began to regain his composure.

“Hey uh— I’m sorry.” He said.

“Don’t be dude that was fucking great,” Hunter replied, still on his back. “You produce a lot of cum dude.”

“I don’t really jerk off, that might be why.”

“Yeah, I figured, the whole Utah thing.”

“I’m not Mormon,” then, after a pause, “I’m not gay either.”

Hunter sat up and looked at him. “Didn’t say you were,” He stood up and went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. “I, however, very much am. If you couldn’t tell.”

Trey snorted a small laugh and stood to put his pants on. “I think I should get going.”

Hunter turned to look at him, he held a damp paper towel in his hand to clean his face off.

“That’s fine. But if you ever want to go over technique, just hit me up.” Hunter cracked a big smile. Trey returned it with a small grin, said he would, and walked out.