Outed

When game day finally arrived, Alex had asked if Stu and Tim would mind saying a few words to the team, before the game.

“We’ve all had some shit this year.” Started Stu, as he stood at the room’s centre. “Me, I’m dealing with it by just focusing on the future.”

“I can’t change what’s happened, I hope I can influence what happens next.” He paused. “I’m not with you guys out there, but I’ll do everything I can from the sidelines to help win. You don’t know how much this opportunity means for me.” He drew breath for his final word. “Thank you, I’m proud to be team.”

The room cheered. Tim got to his feet.

“I’m not sure how to follow my boyfriend with those words. To tell you the truth, I’m still keen to play, I was thinking I could just hide this cast under my jumper and run out.” The room laughed.

“Stu’s good with fancy words, me, not so much. Today is about ninety, two, one and one. Ninety minutes, two challengers, one championship.” It was his turn to pause. “and most importantly, One team. Go beat the fuck out of them!”

* * *

While Stuart and Tim were focused on the game, an updated report broadcast on the local TV News, went almost undetected.

“It was announced this morning that ‘Canton Lifting’ has been placed into receivership. For more than a decade, Canton has been in business at City Dock. Today it closed its doors for the last time, sixteen people have unfortunately lost their jobs.” Detailed the reporter.

“Viewers may be aware that it was Mr. Brett Canton who was assaulted in his Picnic Avenue home some weeks ago. A man is currently in jail awaiting trial for the attack.” He continued.

The screen cut to a worker being interviewed outside the now locked gates.

“It’s a real shame,” he started. “Brett began this business years ago, most of us have been around since then.” An on-site reporter nodded in deep concern, as the fluro clad man told his story.

“What went wrong?” Asked the reporter.

“We kept it going as best we could, while Brett is in hospital, but without the boss here, we just couldn’t hold it together any longer. He’s still going to be in there for a month or so, and the bank wouldn’t wait.”

“So, there we have it. Canton’s closed and rough times ahead for everyone. Back to you in the studio, Ryan.”

* * *

The final match started badly. Within the first fifteen minutes, the team found themselves behind on the score board. Stu and Tim found themselves as busy as ten men. With sub-coach chipping in, they moved players around the field to best attack, and then best defend.

With locals following what had happened on the team, the stands were packed with students, their parents and interested public. It was hard to tell the percentage for and against, but best guesses put it about 60/40 in the team’s favour.

The match became a huge arm wrestle. The opposition defended their increasingly slender lead like tigers. Ten minutes from full time, the team hit the front. It wasn’t much of a gap. But they were on the right side of it.

The 'sub-in' coaches were torn between defending or attacking, worried a change of focus would disrupt the game’s flow. Attack had worked, they stuck with it. Three minutes from final hooter, they managed to score again.

In the last desperate minutes, the opposition threw everything they had at winning. The team responded as one, they lifted their heads and pushed back. It was as if the entire cohort had decided this season wasn’t going to beat them, although exhausted, they powered on.

When the final siren declared the end of the game, the stands exploded in celebration. The 60/40 estimate, had been under-cooked. Stu and Tim collapsed to the seats in the coaches’ box and hugged madly. They even hugged new-chum coach, who was grinning ear to ear.

* * *

When the chaos of winning had subsided, the players milled around on the ground waiting for the cup presentation ceremony. A temporary platform was wheeled onto the middle of the pitch and sound system connected.

The league chairman welcomed everyone and congratulated both teams on their game. He commiserated that there could only be one winner. He called the winning captain to the stand. Alex arrived, and he immediately congratulated the opposition on how tough they played. He called for the audience to applaud them, and received a solid response.

One by one the players were called forth to receive their Championship medallions, and rings. Every name gained a cheer. When sub-coach received his, he seemed embarrassed, he fumbled a few words and cleared the stage as soon as he could.

Stu and Tim hung back on the boundary line, well behind the crowd and stage. They were happy and utterly relieved with the day’s outcome. They were slapped on the back and had their hands shaken whenever anyone happened to notice them.

Everyone accounted for, the winning team were asked to return to the stage, as one group, for their team picture. The Chairman stayed in place behind the lectern, while they got themselves arranged.

“Could I ask Stuart Bolton and Tim Baxter to come to the stage.” He requested, into his microphone. At the rear, the boys just looked at each other, confused.

When they arrived on stage the stands again erupted in genuine well-wishing applause.

“Thank you ladies and gentlemen,” called the Chairman, after a minute. “We have never done this before, but this year, as there were three stand-in coaches, we’ve commissioned two extra championship rings. Congratulations Stuart Bolton and Timothy Baxter.” As the boys looked at each other in shock, the Chair handed them their rings. The crowd applauded wildly, thoroughly impressed.

Stu grabbed Tim’s hand, held it in triumph. Then they both bowed deeply in thanks.

* * *

The next morning, Tim and Stu woke at the Bolton house after what was a late night. Still on medications, the guys hadn’t had anything to drink. They’d just stayed up, hanging with their team mates around the back-yard pool.

Save for his cast, Tim hung naked. His team mates had seen him nude before, but the context of why he was naked now, took some explaining. The fact that some guys had their girlfriends with them, didn’t factor, in Tim insisting to Stu that he honor his ‘pain’ commitment while at the Bolton household. By the end of the evening half a dozen of the guys were skinny dipping.

When they’d arrived in the kitchen just after nine the next morning, they were both naked. They found Jane starting her first coffee and Stu’s dad at the stove. Stu, not yet used of being unclothed around strangers, freaked a little, but it was too late by then. Jane made a show of sizing him up, after winking to Tim.

“What are you Boys doing today?” Kevin asked.

“We’re going to hang in our room and do absolutely nothing.” Declared Stu, not revealing their real plans.

“We’re going to the beach,” Kevin declared, then went on to not invite them. “Are you in for dinner?”

“No, I’m staying at Tim’s place.” Stu added. “Do you know Cathy made Damian move the old guest double bed into his room?”

“Why do you sound so shocked?” Asked Kevin. “Don’t you think we’ve all grown in the last few weeks?”

“Kevin,” Stu said, testing the new world order, “I’m not shocked, I’m hinting!”

“Oh,” said Kevin, faking that he had no idea, “You’re welcome to buy your own bed.” 

* * *

As Tim and Stu had been starting to stir that morning, Davis Hilton was laying chest down across the corner of his bed. His caged cock and painfully full balls were jammed against the mattress. He braced himself, knowing what was coming. Nigel had been fucking him for more than a week now. The man’s sex drive was extensive.

He felt the man’s meat pressed to his quivering, but thankfully lubricated hole. The inward pressure built, as his ring expanded to accommodate, oh fuck, this guy’s cock was huge.

Nigel had gone easy on the greenhorn for the first few days, but the grace period was definitely over. Davis felt his insides being expanded as more and more cock entered his body. He winced in pain as his 2nd internal sphincter was punched open as well. He was having a rough time catching his breath. At last, pubes against arse was achieved.

Nigel kicked his toy’s legs a little wider. Davis’s balls came under even more intense pressure. He was coming up to three weeks now with no release. He still wasn’t brave enough to ask to cum, but the internal stress was driving him mad.

Nigel started to pump the arse he owned. Long strokes to begin with. All the way in, almost all the way out. Davis experienced a ‘quake’ through his body as every thrust landed. His pounding had begun. In a few minutes he’d be covered in sweat, as he did all he could to cope with the onslaught. Holy fuck, Nigel was fucken horny today! Holy fuck!

Nigel found himself desperate to fuck this morning. He was horny all the time, but occasionally he just needed to really fuck and fuck hard. Today was one of those days. He picked up pace, driving as deep as he could with every push. He could hear his toy squealing, he liked that this one was a little more vocal than Julio. He lifted his intensity again, trying to push his cock through the boy into the mattress and beyond.

Part of the new bottom boy still struggled that he was here at all. A fully straight male with a rock-hard penis crammed up his arse. He’d never even played with other guys as a teenager, now his body was being used for whatever someone else sexually desired. Nigel continued.  

Davis simply hung on as best he could, he was being fucked as hard as he himself had ever fucked anyone in his life. He did his best to keep quiet but the pain was real, and its expression kept escaping from his vocal cords.

Nigel was going to blow, Davis knew it. Thank fuck! There would be a blistering final burst and a last gasp entry from hell. It came as predicted; Davis had his arse thoroughly loaded with gang leader seed.

Nigel collapsed along his toy’s wet with sweat spine. He didn’t mind the moisture. It meant his hole had been worked hard. He pushed himself to stand, taking a minute to recover. Davis slipped off the bed and knelt where he knew he was expected to be.

“Clean it off boy,” directed the leader, “get the sweat off those balls too.” He took a breath. “Fuck I needed that.” He declared.

He reached down and brushed the chrome bar running through Davis’s nipple. The area was still red and a little inflamed from its mid-week insertion. His toy had screamed into his pillow as Nigel drove the pin through the flesh, snail-pace slow. This toy was coming along nicely. Davis whimpered as Nigel rotated the bar, it was still tender then.

“Clean yourself up.” Said Nigel, as the boy finished his standard post fuck task. “We’ll grab breakfast.” Davis wiped his arse and pulled on his tight cut-offs. As he went to put on his tee, Nigel fingered his six pack and then left bicep. “You’re coming along nicely, boy. Don’t you think?”

“Yes Sir.”

“I like how you work hard in gym. It’s important my toy looks good.”

On the way down to the canteen, Davis thought about his lot. Gained muscle and a connection to a powerful gang leader were the only benefits he could think of. Being fucked at least once daily, when he’d never contemplated being with a guy was unbelievable. He had become a fuck hole, and little more.

He’d seen how Julio had been where he was now. It gave him insight on what would be coming. Lobe expanding ear holes and tattoos of guys fucking. He already had a permanent cock cage, how come the prison system allowed him to be locked like that? Someone, somewhere was pulling strings! He’d found out that Julio had recently been locked as well. He shuddered.

He did get to see the inner workings of the gang, which was quite an operation. Nigel had four members, who’s arses were loaded with the gang’s stash of contraband. Depending on the daily transactions, these guys could be in and out of the boss’s cell all day. The steel canisters the guys were loaded with were huge. Davis had found out these hapless mules were to be sold off to the brothels for customers to fist, when they were released.

As they arrived at the canteen he lined up behind his owner and waited for his food. At least no one stole from his plate. He looked around and saw Julio sitting beside the white gang leader. The boy was on ‘Loan’ to the guy. Like Davis his head remained shaved bald. They secretly nodded to each other.